Back from where we came
by sborden491
Summary: During a routine breaking-and-entering call, mates Judy and Nick WildeHopps stumble upon a mysterious lynx who knows much more about them than anyone should. The path his elusive trail leads them on reveals how Zootopia came to be. And how it might also end as the past catches up to the future. This is Part One, now finished. Part Two, Rise of the Northern Lights has begun.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Nick awoke with a start, a familiar sense of dread coursing through his veins, chilling him to the bone and sending a shudder all the way down to the tip of his tail.

 _Raindrops pelting down. . . lighting sparking distantly in the darkness. . . his running footsteps splashing water loudly into the night. . . turn the corner into the alley and skidding off the slippery sidewalk into the street, barely catching himself with an outstretched hand, looking up. . . right into the dripping muzzle of a gun. . ._

A faint purr emanating somewhere below his chin brought him back to the present. Heart racing, the fox drew a deep, deliberate breath, bringing with it the lavender tinged feminine scent of the sleeping bunny nestled contentedly against his chest. Relishing in the soothing smell, Nick couldn't help but smile as the doe reflexively adjusted her possessive embrace of his tail to keep the still-twitching appendage under her control.

" _I have no quarrel with you, fox," declared the hooded mammal with a refined accent. Feline fingers closed on the trigger, the faint click of the lever reaching its first stop coming through louder than the droning thunder._

" _However," continued the lynx, now outlined dramatically as the sky suddenly flashed, "if you persist in following me, you will leave me no choice but to put you down." The crescendo of sound following the returning darkness accentuated the finality of the statement._

' _You've got to be kidding me,' said Nick's impudent inner voice. 'How does he_ do _that?'_

" _Nice special effects," Nick quipped. "But you know how it goes: Perps run, we follow."_

" _Too bad," came the wearied reply from the lynx as he shot the fox in the chest, the impact launching the tod back onto the main road._

"Nick?" Judy's sleepy voice broke through his stupor. "You okay, foxy?"

"Sorry, Fluff," Nick said with a sigh. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"It was him again," Judy probed, one of her paws relinquishing its hold on his tail to gently stroke his jaw. "Wasn't it?"

"You mean, my personal Bogey-mammal, Mystery Lynx?" Nick grumbled disparagingly. "Yeah. Him, again."

"We'll get him, you know," she assured him.

"That's what I'm afraid of," came Nick's reply.

Judy brought herself up to sit looking down severely at the fox, the action turning on a small motion activated lamp under the night stand next to the bed. "What kind of talk is that, Officer Wilde?" she said, thrusting the tip of tod's tail into his nose, eliciting a sneeze from the fox.

"Hey!" he complained, pawing at his nose and trying to regain possession of his tail. "Careful with the merchandise! You break it, you buy it!"

"Hah!" was Judy's triumphant reply as she poked the fluffy tip into his nose again. "I already own it," she continued, holding up her other paw and displaying the gold band with a small fox-head shaped diamond on her ring finger.

"Sly bunny."

"Dumb fox."

Nick grinned. "Naked bunny," he said playfully.

"Horny fox," she countered, looking slowly down his body, then frowned. "Sure you can deliver, Slick?" she said teasingly. "Wheels look a little flat."

Nick's paws went to his chest. "I'm hurt," he pouted. "When have I ever failed to deliver?" One of his paws jumped to cover the doe's opening mouth. "It was a rhetorical question," he said quickly. "Besides, I had too much to drink that day."

"It was our wedding night, lover kit," Judy dead panned.

The tod waved a paw dismissively. "Doesn't negate the effects of alcohol," he said. "Case dismissed. Besides," he smiled deviously, "I do seem to recall a certain bunny throwing up all over me during said incident before passing out, herself."

"Yeah," Judy cleared her throat, her ears drooping slightly. "Well, then, at any rate, are you doing me or not?" Her paws flew to her mouth, the inside of her ears turning bright pink and falling all the way down over her eyes. "Oh, sweet cheese and crackers," she mumbled. "Did I really say that?"

" _. . . are you doing me or not?"_ came her voice from a particular carrot-shaped pen. Nick clicked the stop button. "Yep," he said. "You sure did."

"Sly fox."

"Sweet, adorable, sexy bunny," he murmured, tossing the pen onto the night stand and drawing his mate close to him, nuzzling her ear. "My bunny," he whispered.

Judy's paw wandered below his waist. "I guess this fox is ready," she purred, turning to rub her back into his belly. Her paw reached up behind his head, pulling him down, his muzzle coming to rest between her ears.

"My fox," she sighed happily as her mate had his way with her, and she, with him.

All thoughts of a mysterious lynx forgotten for at least this night.


	2. Fire in the Skye

The vixen let out a sigh. She lay kneeling on the sofa, head resting softly on front paws folded neatly over the armrest. "I really envy them," Skye said, wistfully. "They are so devoted to each other."

"Don't worry, Cyn," Jack assured her. "Someday you'll meet the right tod and he'll make an honest vixen out of you."

The arctic fox let out a soft yet rich, feminine laugh that Jack wished so much he could hear more often. She turned her head, looking fondly back over her shoulder at the rabbit clutching her dress while bucking steadily against her hindquarters. She sighed again. All worries were gone from his face, a sight the vixen wished she could see more often.

"Oh, Jack," she said warmly. "After you set up camp behind my tail for eight years?" She giggled ever so slightly. "I doubt even you would try to make an honest vixen out of me now."

"Don't be absurd, Cynthia," Jack panted, moving a little faster. "I'd marry you in a heartbeat. And so would any sane mammal."

Caught off guard, her head tilted slightly at the comment, Skye suddenly feeling emotional.

"That is so sweet, Jack," she said. Before she could add more, the buck's face took on a look she found—but could never say—so unbelievably cute that told the vixen he was nearing his climax. She gracefully moved her tail up from her side where it had been laying out of the way and wrapped it tenderly around the rabbit, gently pulling him in closer as he emptied himself in her.

"Make a mess on my dress," she playfully warned the now-still bunny, brushing his cheek with the tip of her tail, "and you'll be sleeping alone for a year."

Jack nuzzled her tail and rubbed her hindquarters with his paws. "Never fear," he said, carefully reaching beneath her and bringing up a paw towel. "A towel is here."

"And just _when_ did you get that?" inquired the vixen.

"You know what they say about us rabbits," Jack said with a wink. "We're fast."

"One of your qualities that I like best," she murmured with a slight wiggle to her hips. She lay her chin back onto her paws and relaxed while Jack withdrew himself from her and made gentle use of the towel on the vixen.

And _kept on_ making _good_ use of the towel.

"Jaaaaaaack?" Skye purred.

"Just admiring the view, Cyn," he replied matter-of-factly, toweling more for effect now. "Undisputedly one of the wonders of the world." The vixen took in a sharp breath as Jack moved her dress up slightly higher and kissed the small of her back while grasping the base of her tail in that one way he knew had a special effect on her.

"That's only three times tonight, Jack," she murmured, turning to look at him. _'Will that be enough to keep the ghosts at bay, my gallant rabbit?'_ she asked herself.

"We have a lot to do," Jack reminded her. "And we also need to be up first thing in the morning to meet the WildeHopps'. I'll be fine." Focusing on the task at hand, the buck knew from much practice how to elicit the desired responses from the vixen and wasted no time in bringing them out.

"Can I take the dress off, Jack?" Skye asked, panting. "I really don't want to ruin it."

"Oh. Could you keep it on? Please?" Jack cajoled. "You look fantastic in it. I don't think I've ever seen you look so beautiful." Skye _yipped_ pleasantly as Jack ministered to her.

"Jack Savage," she whispered sternly. "Just don't make me howl and I'll keep it on for you," she bargained, almost breathless. "You know how Mrs. Deerford complains when I howl."

"But you _like_ when I make you howl," Jack reminded her seriously.

"Then make me howl at _your_ place," she snapped softly. "Deal or not?"

"You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Skye," the buck said. "OK. No howling."

"Speaking of hard bargains. . ." the vixen said, curious. "Are you even ready?"

Jack leaned back, letting Skye see for herself that he was, indeed, quite ready. "As I said," he told the smiling fox. "You, my sweet vixen, look absolutely fetching—and we bunnies are fast."

In the end, however, Mrs. Deerford would complain again in the morning about 'wild goings on in the middle of the night'. Though in all honestly, it really wasn't Jack's fault. Quite unnoticed by the pair, Skye had gone and done it: she had fallen in love with the rabbit.

 _5:00 AM_

Nick sighed, pawing lazily at his phone and dismissing the despised morning wake-up call. Only then did he notice a bunny doe wrapped around his waist, mouth parted adorably enough to let just the tip of her tongue poke out with each whistling breath. He grinned and reached again for his phone since there was no way this scene was going unrecorded for posterity—or the bulletin board at the precinct cafeteria. Balancing the device high above to get the possible best angle was difficult without disturbing the slumbering bunny, but he finally managed to have all set for the perfect shot.

"That's one way to learn what the fox says," came a low warning from his mate, "when he's neutered."

The startled fox lost his precarious hold on the phone, only to reap the reward of the device tumbling down and landing painfully on his snout, eliciting a muffled ' _yip'_ from the tod.

"Serves you right," Judy said, smugly. "And to think I was going to be nice to you this morning," she added, one of her hind paws making its way tantalizingly up between the fox's legs. "Or, naughty, at least." With that said, she sprang nimbly out of the bed and headed to the bathroom, gazing back mischievously at the disappointed-looking fox still rubbing his sore muzzle.

"You know you love me," Nick called after her.

"Do I?" his mate asked, closing the door behind her. "Yes," she replied, peeking back out. "Yes, I do."

 _6:00 AM_

Breakfasted and dressed, the couple checked each other over one last time before heading out to the precinct. True to their normal morning ritual, they made the five-minute walk hand in hand to the just-opening Snarlbuck's and went in, leaving a few minutes later with large, specialty coffees—today it was Mocha for Nick and Carrotino for Judy—and boarded the bus at the stop directly in front of the store.

At this time in the morning there were always plenty of seats, so the uniformed couple sat next to each other at the front of the bus, Judy, as always, taking the window seat for the twenty-minute ride to the police station.

"Officers WildeHopps," greeted the bus driver, a smaller than average brown bear. "Off again to make Zootopia a better place for all mammals?"

"You bet, Yogi," piped Judy with her usual exuberance.

"Gotta keep the riff-raff off the streets," added Nick while stifling a yawn. "Though I'd wager most of the riff is sleeping and the raff is getting ready to join them."

"I hear yah," said Yogi with a chuckle. "At times I envy my ancestors' freedom to hibernate: I could use 7-1/2 months of sleep right now."

Nick laughed. "Don't even get me started," he said. "What a paradise!"

"Yeah," Judy mused. "Then I could actually get some sleep at night for 7-1/2 months."

Nick's ears dropped. Yogi traced '1:0' on the windshield as the couple began their morning sparring session.

While in the back, reading a newspaper, a well-dressed lynx turned the page and smiled.


	3. Meetings

**_Authors Note:_**

 ** _I sincerely hope you are enjoying this story so far._**

 ** _My writing style has always been on the minimalist side, only describing as much detail as needed to enforce my vision of reality. I have been told it allows others to paint a much fuller picture for themselves from their own imagination than I could ever do. But if you feel more detail would be helpful, let me know and I shall endeavor to add more._**

 ** _Please feel free to send your comments and suggestions to let me know how I am doing._**

 ** _Enjoy this new chapter._**

 _6:45 AM_

Precinct One bristled with the usual morning frenzy of mammals going in and coming out of the glass-domed building as the night-to-morning shift-change took place. Mixed among these were assorted mammals in various states of protest, branding pawcuffs in tow to the booking area by tired officers, all giving rise to a cacophony of sound best described as chaos.

Now veterans, Nick and Judy didn't notice the commotion. The couple made their way straight to the dispatch desk amply occupied by a portly cheetah busily arranging several boxes of donuts.

"Morning, Spots," Nick greeted the feline. "Anything juicy for us?"

Officer Clawhauser shook his head. "Just a note that says the Chief wants to see you before roll call," came the cheerful response.

"Might as well go right up, then," Judy said, grabbing Nick by the paw and skipping off to the stairs leading up to the Chief's office.

"Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww!" bubbled the cheetah.

"Five years, Spots," Nick sighed, looking back at the beaming feline. "We've been married five years now."

They were half way up the stairs when all went quiet.

Curious, Nick glanced towards the entrance. Something vaguely familiar made his nose twitch, so he stopped to get a better sniff and try to place the scent. Noticing her mate suddenly still, Judy also turned to look look, missing her step in the process and barely managing to grab the railing in time to keep from falling face-first onto the stairs.

Below, all eyes watched entranced at a pair of mammals strolling casually towards the ZPD-blue dispatch desk. Clawhauser swiveled his chair around to see what was of so much interest that it would quiet the chaos and promptly dropped the doughnut he had been about to put into his mouth.

A light-grey buck rabbit, well-built and tall for a bunny, with black stripes across his face and ears, immaculately dressed in a white shirt, black silk suit and tie made his way forward. Emotionless blue eyes never swung their gaze from the stunned cheetah yet seemed to appraise everything else in the crowded lobby at the same time.

But in all truth, the rabbit was of little consequence to the assorted mammals who parted way silently before him—or, more accurately, for his companion.

Half again as tall as the rabbit, the vixen strolled as if the world were nothing more than her personal playground, with a slight but captivating smile flashing a hint of sharp, blindingly white fangs that made one want to see more. Light brown fur glistened with a hint of red in the budding sunlight, complemented to perfection by the sky-blue fabric of her dress, itself a masterpiece of design. While unmistakably of conservative cut, the outfit nevertheless gloriously accentuated the magnificent figure of the lithe arctic vixen, and the inch-wide, matching sky-blue choker with a ruby pendant inevitably compelled one to peer into her large, jet-black eyes to catch a gleam that promised a mischievous and lively personality. Finally, adding to her splendor was an unusually long and exquisitely attractive tail, the fluffy reddish-brown appendage curving up hypnotically into a graceful question mark.

"Hopps! Wilde!" Chief Bogo called, leaning over the railing and looking down at his officers standing motionless on the stairway. "My office. Now!"

"That's 'WildeHopps'," quipped the tod.

"Didn't ask—don't care," said the Chief, disappearing back into his office. "In here. Now!"

"C'mon, Carrots," Nick said, tugging at his wife. "Don't want ol' Buffalo Butt blowing a fuse."

Judy kept ogling at the vixen as her husband pulled her tentatively along. "I'd kill for that tail," she finally declared.

"Don't sweat it, Fluff," the tod said, making a show of leering at his mate's hindquarters. "Yours is just purrrfect."

"Har, har," she said glaring up at him. "I better not catch you staring at that floozy."

Nick pointed to his chest. "Moi?" he said. "You're the one still staring at her—oof!" Judy's well-aimed jab cut off the tod's reply.

"Shut it," she said, ears turning pink as she pulled her gaze away from the vixen who was now speaking softly to a drooling Clawhauser. The officers made it to the Chief's office and stepped inside the open door to catch sight of the cape buffalo standing next to the window behind his desk, looking down at the parking lot outside. Judy hopped onto the large-sized chair in front of the Chief's massive desk and offered her mate a paw up. Still rubbing his side and his ears lowered, the fox looked up reproachfully at the doe for a moment before accepting the proffered paw and springing onto the chair next to her.

"You know you love me," Judy mouthed. Nick winked then quickly flicked his tongue, leaving a shiny, wet trail all the way up from the tip of her nose, between her eyes to her forehead. Before the wide-eyed doe could even glare at her mate, the Chief turned to look at his star officers.

"Whatever it was you two stopped last month," he rumbled, "appears to have drawn the attention of the ZIA."

"The jaywalker or the peeping Tom?" Nick asked innocently while Judy busily wiped her face. "It's so hard to—oof!"

"Knock it off, Nick," Judy said, pulling back her elbow from the tod's side. "You mean the B&E where Slick, here, got himself shot?"

"At least one of you earns their pay," the Chief grumbled. "Yes. That one. Apparently, the location happens to be one of several the ZIA has on the _Counter-Intelligence Places-of-Interest_ list _."_ The water buffalo took a deep breath then banged his paws on the desk, shaking several pictures on the wall. "Now, if they just _bothered_ to let us _know_ that there _is_ such a list, maybe my officers would not end up getting shot!" he vented to no one in particular.

"And that has what exactly to do with us, Chief?" asked Nick, quickly turning his paws to fend off another elbow from Judy. "Enough violence, Fluff," he pleaded. "I'm serious, here." Judy narrowed her eyes at him, unconvinced.

"Well," said the Chief. "Since you asked, they're sending over a couple of agents to debrief you." Try as he might, Nick couldn't quite hold back a snicker. "Can it, fox!" Bogo snapped. "They'll be here this morning, and you'd better be on your best behavior: The ZIA does not have a sense of humor."

"Going to be a long day, then," sighed Judy.

"Missed a spot," Nick told her, pointing to her forehead. She swatted his hand away and wiped her face again.

The Chief sighed. "Interrogation 3 has been set aside for you," he told them. "Per ZIA request, no recordings or observers are to be allowed." The water buffalo snorted loudly. "But I'll be damned if I'm going to let them railroad my officers," he said, his well-known concern for his subordinates coming through loud and clear. "Anything seems even slightly suspicious, you hit the panic button. I'll have them in a cell before your paws come off the button."

"Understood, Chief," Judy said, hopping off the chair.

"We'll make sure no one knows you're really a softie," Nick added as the couple headed out the door.

"OUT!" Bogo shouted after them, though a glimmer of a smile broke through his otherwise stern visage.

 _7:22 AM_

Nick and Judy made their way down the poorly lit hall to Interrogation Room #3, having stopped first to get full Styrofoam cups of what passed as fresh coffee in Precinct One—the bags of grounds had 'coffee' written across them in large block text, but there was no discernible brand (or any other markings, for that matter) on them to give drinkers enough faith to testify under oath the dirt-brown powder really was coffee.

As the couple neared their destination, they noticed light spilling into the hallway from the already open door. That same almost-familiar scent caught Nick's attention, causing his nostrils to flare as he took in a deeper breath.

"Oh, joy," he said, ears flattening. "This is going to be fun."

"What?" Judy asked, noticing his reaction.

"After you, my love," Nick said with a flourish towards the door, then followed the perplexed bunny into the room.

All the interrogation rooms in the precinct were the same size and easily capable of hosting a dozen elephants or rhinos for questioning. But Room #3 was set up for smaller mammals, so the smallness of the table that stood in the middle of the room gave the impression of a raft adrift in an ocean of dirty-white tiles. The light from the fixture above it would have been overpowering had more than one of the ten long fluorescent bulbs in it been lit. Pacing impatiently in front of the table, paws behind his back, was the striped-faced rabbit buck from the lobby while behind it, sitting demurely with her paws folded on the tabletop, was the arctic vixen contemplating the buck with an amused glint in her eyes.

Then the buck noticed Nick and Judy standing quietly in the room.

"They must not teach punctuality at the Academy," he complained loudly. Judy opened her mouth to say something, but Nick just took hold of her paw and silently led her out of the room with him.

"What?" came from the startled buck. "Where are you going?" he called after the exiting pair with growing outrage.

Back in the hallway and out of sight of the now furiously ranting buck, Nick smiled at his confused mate and winked, shaking his head to stop her as she made to re-enter the room. He looked at the large, round clock down the hall, humming _'What the Fox Says'_ softly to himself while the second-hand went around the dial twice. Then, taking a deep breath, he clasped his mate's paw and the two walked back into the room. The striped-faced bunny stood panting, out of breath now and the red of anger coming through his grey fur and ears as he glared daggers at the couple.

"Officers WildeHopps," Nick announced with a lazy salute as the digital clock over the door changed from 07:29 to 07:30. "Reporting for our 7:30 debriefing."

The vixen totally lost her composure with a loud burst of laughter, rich and feminine and completely intoxicating to hear, so much so that even Judy found it hard to keep from joining her as the vixen laughingly pointed at the stunned, open-mouthed expression covering the buck's face, the rabbit's head tilted sideways and ears hanging limply behind his back. After a few seconds, the vixen was wiping tears from her eyes, only to lose it again as the buck glared accusingly at her but looking so adorably cute with the way his nose kept twitching.

"Oh, Jack," she said, recovering at last. "You do have such a way with mammals." She rose from her chair and made her way to the couple. Tried as he might, Nick could not place the scent of the vixen, who stopped before them and offered a paw in greeting. "I am Agent Skye," she introduced herself. Judy was first to give a pawshake.

"Officer Judy WildeHopps," she said. "Pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," Skye said. "I've wanted to meet you for the longest time. I'm a great fan, you know." She daintily held up the back of her other paw to Nick in a very old-fashioned and formal way that Judy knew from watching period TV dramas vixens used to introduce themselves to strange tods. "And you, then, must be Officer Nicholas WildeHopps," the vixen said with bated breath, tail curling over her shoulder and the tip brushing softly up and down the ruby pendant. Though slightly taller than Nick, she looked down timidly at him, her dark eyes glistening in the weak light.

Judy was taken back at the way Nick's ears suddenly went flat and his lips tightened almost into a snarl. "We're done here," he growled, taking his speechless mate by the paw and backing away from the agent.

"Oh, dear," the vixen said, real wonder and perhaps even hope in her voice. "You two _are_ truly mated."

"Huh?" was all Judy could say, staring back and forth at the two foxes.

"Cheap theatrics," Nick told her. "Add dime-store pheromones, and see if you can get a rise out of the fox."

"Whaaat?" came Judy's less than thought out reply.

The vixen's demeanor took a sudden shift to one of authority. "Mr. WildeHopps," she said approaching the tod with a small spray bottle in her paw. "I assure you there is nothing 'dime-store' about these pheromones." She aimed a short burst at Nick's face. "They are mine, collected at great inconvenience to me I might add, and processed by my own paws."

Were Nick's bond with Judy any less than it was, the overwhelming measure of sweet, musky scent of a vixen in heat would have had the tod prancing around the room on all fours, yipping and wagging his tail. As it was, it was merely annoying, and luckily not perceived as a threat to his mate.

But the concentrated dose finally allowed Nick's brain to grasp the straw he'd been reaching at for the past hour. The pheromones now processed and dealt with, what remained was the unique, personal scent of the vixen. But it was ever so faint, almost not there: the scent of wild lilies blooming amidst a forest of pine trees.

Nick's ears perked up and he stared dumbfounded at the vixen.

"Cynthia?" came out his whisper.


	4. Unexpected reunions

**Author's Note:**

 **This chapter came out sooner than I expected. I do hope you enjoyed the last one. Skye and Nick's relationship was something fun to develop and will be explored as we continue, as will Skye and Jack's. But, there really isn't much fluff for fluff's sake-not yet, at least.**

 **Please let me know how I am doing, as I try to improve my storycraft.**

 **Enjoy this next chapter.**

* * *

Across the parking lot from the ZPD, in an office high up on the twenty-eighth floor of the Mammals Mutual building, a murmured "Interesting" was the only reaction by the lynx watching the scene unfolding inside Interrogation Room #3 on a huge flat-panel monitor mounted to the wall. The feline sat comfortably on an expensive couch, holding a cup of exceptionally good coffee and resting his hind paws on a padded pawstool. The monitor showed scenes from two dozen different cameras throughout the city, the views arranged in small windows around the edges of the oversized screen. The center part displayed his current main topic of interest: The meeting between the ZPD and ZIA's finest.

* * *

In Room #3, it was Skye this time who stepped back, eyeing Nick with suspicion bordering more on hostility. "How do you know that name?" she growled.

Nick sighed, his expression easing into a tender smile. " _Never_ let them see that they get to you, kid," he said, softly.

His words cut right through Skye's defenses straight into her heart. As if a great weight had settled on her shoulders, the arctic vixen sank to her knees, tears welling up in her eyes. "Nicky?" she cried, staring in disbelief at the tod. "Nicky Black, is that really you?"

Nick rushed over to her, dropping to one knee and taking the sobbing vixen into his arms. "It's OK, Cynthia," he said, nuzzling the top of her head while tears of his own streamed down his cheeks. "I got you," he whispered. "I got you, now."

Staring wide-eyed at the oblivious foxes, Jack and Judy looked at each other and shrugged.

Judy trusted Nick implicitly, but after several minutes of watching the emotional exchange continue between the foxes, she began to feel a twinge of jealousy. Nick had never mentioned anything to her about a relationship serious enough to warrant what she saw taking place. In fact, the tod had fervently denied _ever_ being in _any_ meaningful relationship before he met Judy. And that bothered the doe. A lot. And, from the looks of the striped-faced buck standing arms-crossed by the table, it was clear Agent Skye—Cynthia—whatever her name was—had also failed to disclose any such relationship.

"It would seem," Jack said pointedly to the weeping pair, "that you two already know each other."

"Very well," added Judy with a hint of steel.

The vixen managed a short laugh though her sobs, but it was Nick who replied.

"Yeah," he admitted. "We do." The tod drew the vixen in tighter. "She was my responsibility, Carrots," he sobbed with shame. "And I failed her."

"Oh, Nicky," Skye said, gently pulling away to look up at the tod. Shaking her head, she took his face in her paws. "No. No, no my sweet _, sweet_ fox. It's not your fault," she assured him. "You left me in the one place _guaranteed_ to be safe. Nobody could have guessed—not even Papa. Except, you—you _wanted_ to stay—I heard you two arguing—and _he_ sent you away. If I blame anyone, Nicky, it's _him_. Not you."

Judy looked at Jack. "Is she always like this?" she asked.

"Never seen anything like it before," the buck replied.

"I thought you were dead," Nick said to the vixen. "They _told_ me you were dead—I mean—does Antonio even know you're in Zootopia?"

Skye shook her head. "I haven't spoken to Papa in years," she said bitterly. "I have nothing I want to say to him."

"Antonio?" Judy asked her mate, a light bulb clicking on in her mind. "You mean. . . ?"

"Yes, Carrots," Nick said, looking his bunny in the eyes. "Cynthia is Mr. Big's eldest daughter."

* * *

Exceptionally good coffee sprayed out of the lynx's nose and all over his clothes. "Bollocks," he said, coughing loudly and trying—unsuccessfully—not to spill the rest of the hot liquid in his cup on himself as well. He winced in pain, springing gracefully off the couch to fetch a towel from the wet bar in the back of the office.

Missing what happened next.

* * *

"I really do hate to interrupt," Jack said, taking a small device from inside his jacket and placing it on the table. "But we did not come here for a reunion." He firmly squeezed the device and its smooth shell flickered before turning a pleasant green with a cheerful buzz. "For privacy," added the buck.

While in an office high up in the building across the parking lot, a wet and now very frustrated lynx spat newly invented swear words at the static suddenly dancing across his screen...

Skye rose up, placing a gentle kiss on Nick's forehead. She took a deep breath to compose herself before smoothing down her clothes and joining her partner by the table.

"You're right, Jack," she said by way of apology. "I'm sorry. Of all things that could happen today, I was not expecting this." She smiled warmly at the ZPD officers. "Nicky, Judy, please joins us. Let's start over."

Judy closed the door, then followed Nick to the table and sat next to him opposite the ZIA officers. Nick glimpsed down wistfully at Judy's full cup of coffee, the remains of his own having been unceremoniously dumped and now laying in a large puddle on the floor by the doorway.

"Not even in your dreams, Slick," she said.

"Cruel bunny," her mate accused her.

"Thirsty fox," she replied, smugly. Nick's ears flattened.

Skye only smiled while Jack's exasperation neared its limit. "Nicky," she said, trying to move things along before the buck went critical. "Chief Bogo must have told you why we are here today."

Nick gave a nod. "He did kinda mention you're curious about the B&E we interrupted last month," he said.

"What makes a simple B&E so important?" asked Judy.

"Do 'simple B&E's usually result in officers being shot?" came from Jack.

"More often than the ZIA shows an interest in them," countered the doe.

"Then us being here should tell you we're not dealing with a 'simple B&E'," replied the buck.

"You being here just tells me we know something you don't," Judy pushed.

"Then, perhaps you should consider cooperating with us," Jack said, nearly climbing up on the table.

Judy glared defiantly at the buck. "We can keep going around this circle all day," she said. "But I'm going to find out what the ZIA finds so interesting about this B&E."

As the bunnies were arguing, Nick's paw had slowly but surely crept towards Judy's Styrofoam cup and had almost reached it now. Her eyes never leaving Jack's, Judy's ear flicked down and landed with a loud _snap_ on the tod's paw, bringing forth a muffled _yip_ from her mate. While Nick massaged the sore appendage, Judy turned her head towards him, amethyst eyes boring into his widening emerald ones. She picked up her cup and took a long, noisy sip from it before putting it down far out of the tod's reach, then slowly and deliberately licked her muzzle clean. The tod's ears went flat.

"Would. You. Like. A. Cup. Of. Coffee. Officer, WildeHopps," said Jack through gritted teeth.

Nick casually waived him off. "Hardly ever touch the stuff," he said.

Jack's lips trembled in frustration. Skye placed a paw on his shoulder to keep him calm.

"Be nice, Nicky," she said to the tod. "We're here because we're worried about you."

"Worried about us?" Judy asked doubtingly. "Then why didn't we know you had that location under surveillance? We never would have gone in like that."

"The building was not 'under surveillance,' Judy," the vixen clarified. "It's just an address that we notice popping up from time to time. As such, we like to keep alert for any incidents or reports about it."

The glimmering device on the table flickered red for an instant, then resumed its friendly green glow. Skye glanced worriedly at Jack.

"We're running out of time," said the buck.

"Time for what?" asked Judy.

"Tun, ton, tahhhh," sang Nick dramatically, drumming his fingers on the table. "Oww," he yelped as Judy thumped him behind the head with her ear.

"Stop it," she hissed, then asked Jack again, "What are we running out of time for?"

The device on the table flickered red again, longer this time before returning green. Skye pulled off a sticky-note from a dispenser on the table and took out a Gazelle pen from her pocket. "Not in here," she said, writing down an address and passing the note to Judy. "Meet us there," she said. "Tonight, at 10:00PM."

"Do not bring your phones or any other communications devices," Jack told them.

Nick chuckled. "What's with all the melodrama?" he asked.

"You are being watched, Mr. WildeHopps," Jack explained. "And we do not know why."

"Oh, come on!" protested Nick. "How do you know that?"

"There is a saying in the North," mused the agent. "Used by organized crime bosses when dealing with the police," he went on, pointing a finger-gun at Nick's forehead. "Dead, in the head—" The buck 'fired', then switched his aim to the police-issue vest covering Nick's upper torso. "In jest, to the chest." He 'fired' again, then looked Nick in the eye. "You, Mr. WildeHopps, are still alive."

Nick thought about that, again going over the episode in his mind. Skye spoke next.

"We have already informed Chief Bogo that you have been transferred to the ZIA for temporary assignment under Zootopia Article 7," she said, holding up a paw to stop Judy's expected protest. "I will explain more tonight. You are still police officers, with your normal duties, but you are on call to the ZIA as needed. This also allows us to extend protection to you and share resources."

"Speaking of which," interjected Jack, tossing a smaller version of the green-glowing device onto the table, "this will keep you safe from most electronic surveillance as long as you remain moving." He squeezed the device and a small light appeared on its end. He squeezed the device again to extinguish the light. "Only use it when you absolutely must," he said, "and only if you can remain moving. Otherwise keep it off and out of sight. If you do not, they can hack the device and it will be worse than not having it at all. Understood?"

The ZPD officers nodded, slightly overwhelmed.

"You will go see the Chief in a few minutes," Skye said, "and he will ask you to rewrite the report about the B&E and add your impression of this 'interview' we're having to it."

"Why would he ever ask us to rewrite a report?" asked Judy, confused.

"To let you know without so many words that what we have told you about your assignment status is true," the vixen replied. "Nicky will tell him he'd rather get parking duty—and that will let the Chief know you have been told about your assignment."

The device on the table flickered red and stayed red.

"Twenty seconds," called out Jack, pocketing the device and getting up. "Remember, officers: Be cautious: He is watching you."

"Who's watching?" asked Nick.

"Oh, come now, Mr. WildeHopps. You've already met him," said the agent. "The lynx."


	5. Intermissions

**Author's Note:**

 **In case anyone wonders, Nick and Judy are rock solid. The point of starting the story with them already married was to focus on other elements and not another "how they got together" piece, though I do reserve the right to visit my version of that at some other point . . . ;)  
**

 **Please let me know how I am doing.  
**

 **Enjoy this next chapter.**

 **P.S. DISCLAIMER: I do not own any rights to Zootopia, etc., etc., etc. Except, of course, whatever original content I generate myself.**

 **P.P.S. I have read several FFs about Zootopia (they are what inspired me to write my own) and if I have somehow appropriated something I should not have, please do let me know. There might be some elements from those stories in here as additional Zootopia "canon" to fill in missing gaps in the original.**

* * *

 _8:30 AM_

Nick and Judy went directly to the Chief's office to have their brief discussion about nothing in particular. They honestly gave their impression of the two ZIA agents and their opinions on why they had come to discuss the B&E, and when they all came to the unspoken conclusion this phony exchange had gone on long enough, Chief Bogo asked them to rewrite their B&E report and Nick snickered he'd rather get parking duty. Judy assured the Chief they would file the revised report before the end of the day as they left water buffalo's office.

Making their way down the stairs to the main entrance hall to get to their office, Judy knew from the blank expression on Nick's silent face that her mate was somewhere else. She wanted desperately to believe it had nothing to do with seeing that vixen, who had obviously been very close to her fox at one time and, maybe, still wanted to be. Judy's nose twitched with what she knew in her mind was an irrational fear but still could not shake: Did Nick feel the same way? After all, how could she ever hope to compete with such—such—

Judy sighed in defeat. "I never imagined seeing such an amazingly beautiful mammal," she said.

"Why, thank you, Carrots," Nick said graciously. "I really try to—oof!"

"Next elbow goes for the jewels," Judy threatened. "How could you not tell me about her?"

"What's to tell, Fluff?" said Nick, rubbing his side. "She was dead. End of story."

"Well," Judy said, coming to a stop, "someone just re-wrote the ending."

 _'_ _A little slow on the uptake, today, Slick,'_ Nick chided himself, picking up the almost imperceptible tremble in her voice and realizing his mate was feeling insecure at his thoughtless silence. Always the tomboy, Judy thought of herself as plain-looking at best, and she was so determined to shine based on her abilities alone that she was the touchiest bunny he'd ever met when it came to being called 'cute.' And she was—at least to him—the most adorable, cutest bunny on the face of the planet.

Early on in their relationship, he noticed her self-confidence tended to wilt in the presence of females she considered attractive. As if she had any reason for such feelings with those large, gorgeous, lavender eyes he would happily drown in and her long, shapely ears that just begged for a caress. Not to mentioned those toned, shapely legs leading all the way up to those warm, inviting hindquarters he loved to . . . _'Knock it off,_ ' he told himself.

Taking a couple of steps down, he turned around to face his mate muzzle to muzzle. "You know how it is, Fluff," he said smugly. "I _do_ have an eye for beautiful females." He gazed lovingly into her eyes. "And I married the most stunningly gorgeous one ever to grace this world just to make sure _everyone_ knows it."

Judy leapt into his arms and buried her face in the russet fur of his neck, purring and chinning him thoroughly.

"You bunnies," Nick chuckled. "Always so emotional."

"AAWWWWWWWWWWWW!" came up Clawhauser's voice from the dispatch desk.

* * *

 _8:45 AM_

The door to his office cracked opened, allowing a jet-black hare to peek inside. "Sir," the doe announced, stepping into the office and placing an open newspaper on his desk. "The ZIA agents have left the building. Zeke is on line two, awaiting instructions."

Reeking of spilled coffee, the lynx gave up his futile efforts to cleanse his clothes. "Very well, Trina," he said. "Do I, perchance, have anything clean left in my quarters?"

"I believe so," she said, leaving. "Shall I fetch them?"

Picking up the phone on his desk, he nodded to the doe, then punched the blinking button labeled "2".

"Anything unusual?" he asked Zeke at the other end of the line. "Any other interested parties?"

 _"_ _Nothing, sir,"_ came the reply. _"What would you like us to do? Wait for the ZPD couple?"_

"No. They're not going anywhere for a while," he said. "Stay with the agents."

 _"_ _They'll just lose us again, sir,"_ said Zeke, irritation tinting his voice.

The lynx chuckled. "Well, then," he said. "I guess you can use the practice."

 _"_ _I hear you, sir,"_ Zeke acknowledged. _"Come on, Gret! Might as well get some training in!"_

 _"_ _Again?"_ the voice of Zeke's partner came through before Zeke hanged up the phone.

The lynx sat down at his desk, trying hard to ignore his wet clothes, and picked up the morning edition of the _Zootopia Daily News_ to read the article highlighted by his assistant:

 _ **"**_ _ **LEADING SCIENTISTS SAY MISSING LINKS FOUND"**_

 _Researchers at the famous Plainsville Academy of Science released a statement today in which they claim to have at last found evidence positively linking the branching of modern-day mammals, Mammifero Zootpiens, from their non-sentient cousins, Mammifero Ordinarius. Lead Researcher, Dr. Gustavf Moosternson, further claims the evidence points to the outbreak of a non-specified disease at a definite point in the past, about 10,000 years ago, being the root cause for the branching out that led to mammals rising up from the feral depths of instinctual survival to the heights of civilized existence known today. Dr. Moosternson further went on to speculate, "The radical nature of the changes required for this, taking place at the molecular level in the Mammalian Genome, almost certainly point to such a pathogen being the product of intelligent, not natural, origin." Additionally. . ._

The lynx put the paper down, frowning. Page 23, bottom of the page.

 _Bollocks._

A knock on the door preceded the return of his assistant bringing the promised change of clothes. He took the items from her and set them on the desk.

"I need a ticket on the next airship to Plainsville," he told her.

She nodded. "I'll have Drakos take you to the aerodrome," she said, efficient as ever, and left to make the arrangements.

* * *

 _8:30 PM_

Curled up comfortably on Jack's bed, Skye was nevertheless troubled. Seeing Nicky again after so many years had brought back memories, ones she had thought and hoped long buried. Many were so wonderful she was afraid to even think about them in fear of losing them altogether to the quagmire of her past. Others—many more others—were so terrible it was hard for her to believe they were actually memories and not musings from a cheap horror novel.

Lost in her thoughts, the feeling of Jack's paw stroking her thigh ever so lightly, trembling as he always did when he touched her, unconsciously made the vixen raise her hips, presenting her hindquarters to the buck with her tail coyly draping down over those most intimate parts of her body. Jack slid his paws almost reverently down her fluffy tail, still, even after all these years as her lover, marveling at its softness, and he breathed deep in wonder as he shifted it slowly out of the way to unveil all of the vixen's secrets. The sound of his sudden breath fetched Skye back from her memories. She loved this about him: How he saw her as a newly discovered treasure, always appreciated and never taken for granted, regardless of how many times he availed himself of it.

She closed her eyes, relishing the warm, delicate touch of his paws tenderly exploring the deepest recesses of her femininity. His paws were so soft and smooth and, more importantly, undemanding—such a contrast to everyone else she had been with. She wound her tail around the rabbit as a gentle sign of her readiness, but her thoughts drifted away again even as the rabbit took her and quickly spent himself.

She had wondered many times, so, so long ago, how it would have been if Nicky were the one locking tails with her. Those thoughts were what kept her sanity from fleeing throughout those dark years in the North and, though she always knew they were fantasy, they became real to the young vixen she had been: Imagined trysts in the manicured woods of her childhood home; fancied long, romantic dinners in the luxurious grand restaurants of the Northern capitals; fictional nights of dancing and unforgettable passion in the plush palaces of the Monarchies. Those fantasies became her anchors, her means of escape from a reality no mammal should endure, and she treasured them still as an extension of the friendship she had been lucky enough to have with the tod.

Drifting back to the here and now, Skye was amazed at how thoroughly she had lost track of time, noticing Jack was rocking away against her hindquarters again. Jack.

Oh, Jack.

 _What would I do without you?_

Slumping down against her, finished, the rabbit took a deep breath and lay his head on her back, his arms reaching triumphantly around her waist. She draped her tail over him.

"Welcome back," he said.

"Hmm," she sighed. "It feels like you've been busy," she murmured.

"Going to need new sheets," he admitted. He patted her rump. "You were thinking about him, weren't you?"

"Nicky?" she asked. "For a while. Why?"

"You called out his name," Jack replied.

"Oh," she said, blushing. "I'm sorry. Did it bother you?"

He smiled. "By the looks of the bed, apparently not," he said. "But it does bring up the obvious question: Now that you've found him again, what will you do?"

"You mean, pine away to my grave from unrequited love?" she drawled. "Or, better yet: Kill the Wabbit?"

"That last one _had_ crossed my mind," Jack admitted. "I've never seen anything, or any mammal affect you the way that fox did." Then, to Skye's surprise, a single tear dramatically rolled down from his glistening blue eyes. "You deserve to be happy, Cynthia," he said, heavy with emotion.

She stared at him. "That was good, Jack," she said. "Really good."

"Yeah," he said, eyes suddenly dry. "It was, wasn't it?"

The vixen twisted and curled herself around the rabbit, resting her head next to his. "You're incorrigible," she said. But all that movement brought out just how much of a mess there was. "For mammal's sake, Jack," she chided. "What were you doing back there?"

The rabbit chuckled. "Everything I could while you were distracted," he teased, running his paw up her thigh. "And at least half this mess is yours, by the way." He winked at her, getting up; it was nearing 9:30.

"Jack?" the vixen called out, rolling and stretching out luxuriously. Jack paused and took in the magnificent sight of his lover, who now lay with her head resting on her paws, looking at him strangely…clearly...submissive. "Make me howl?" she asked timidly.

Jack's huge grin was so adorable, she giggled. This time, however, her thoughts were strictly about _her_ _bunny_.

* * *

 _9:18 PM_

For the past two hours, Nick had been leading Judy from one night-club to another, going in, hovering around near the dance floor, then leaving without ever stopping long enough to even have a drink. And having a drink would not have been all that unusual, since they were, to all appearances, club-hopping their way through, of all places, the Canal District. How Nick even knew of these clubs was a mystery to the doe, not to mention that the various bartenders all seemed to know the fox as well.

"I know everyone, Fluff," had been his reply to that last question.

"Can we even get one dance in?" Judy protested as they began their routine again, this time in a club aptly named Frisky Kitties, packed almost exclusively with loud, dancing felines. Nick and Judy had not been out dancing since the last Carrot Days festival in Bunnyburrow and she loved to dance with Nick, who was quite nimble on his paws.

Nick glanced around, finding an opening on the floor, and skillfully led his mate through the maze of lions, tigers, and even bobcats to get to the crowded dance floor. There, he gathered her up in his arms, twirling in time to the music, bringing her close to him to nibble her ear.

"We have a tail," he said, barely audible over the fast, pounding music. Judy threw her head back in laughter, getting a view of the whole club as her mate spun around. And, sure enough, she made them out: a pair of male raccoons dressed in cheap suits, standing out like sore paws among all the merry felines enjoying a night out on the town. She wrapped her legs around Nick's waist and kissed his ear.

"I saw them," she said. "Now what?"

Nick winked at her, then threw his head back and howled.

"I'M FEELING FRISKY!" he shouted as loud as he could, twirling his way to the back of the club where double-doors adorned with outlines of various felines engaging in improbable acts stood guarded on either side by two large black panthers. The crowd around them broke out in cheers and several couples began dancing their way in that same direction. Nick high-fived one of the panthers who pushed the doors inwards, and twirled his way through with his mate firmly clamped against his chest and chinning him enthusiastically.

Making his way down a dark hallway lined with doors on both sides, he pushed one of them open with his leg and spun inside an even darker room, kicking the door shut behind him. He spent several moments hotly nuzzling Judy and running his paws everywhere he could reach, until a faint _click_ came from the door.

"Wanna keep going, Fluff?" he whispered, panting with heated excitement. Feeling quite heated herself, Judy ground her hips against him.

"Make if fast, Slick," she gasped.

The tod unzipped her dress in one smooth motion and ran his paws greedily along her bare back as she slipped her arms out of the garment one at a time. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let her legs come down from his waist, her dress sliding right off onto the thickly carpeted floor. Roaming down her body, Nick's paws caught hold of her frilly panties and brought them down to her ankles, from where Judy kicked them off to land somewhere near the door. One russet paw went to her buttocks and scooped her up while the other unbuckled his pants and let them drop to the floor next to her dress. Judy's agile hind paws dragged his underwear down just enough to be out of the way of his malehood.

Purring up a storm, Judy wrapped her legs around Nick's waist again and lowered herself onto his more than ready member, nipping gently on his shoulder as he did the same to her, and the feel of his sharp teeth pressing against her skin brought out a loud moan from the bunny. Nick's paws firmly grasped her buttocks and, with much practiced motions, brought the pair quickly to blissful climax.

Now, locked together in the intimate way of tods and their mates, the two lay on the carpet staring into each other's eyes without the need to speak of the bond they shared as a life-mated pair. Their love was a palpable thing noticeable to any who cared to look beyond the stereotypes of predator and prey, bunny and fox. But the tod had something he still needed to say.

"I love you, Judy," Nick whispered. "Nothing nor _anyone_ could ever take me away from you."

She snuggled deeper into his chest fur. "I never get tired of hearing that," she purred, chinning her mate.

"I guess I'll just have to say it more," he said. "Can't have my emotional bunny falling apart on me, you know."

"Har, har," she said. Her ears shot up, "We're going to be late!"

Nick shushed her with a kiss. "Not in here," he whispered, low enough she barely heard him. There was a vanity in the corner with grooming supplies for a variety of mammals laid out on its top. After a few minutes, when their intimate lock released, the couple got up and made silent use of the various items. Judy was full of questions, but held them in.

Until she headed to the door to pick up her panties and noticed there was no knob on the door.

"Uh, Nick," she said. "How do we get out of here?"

Her mate grinned and pressed a barely noticeable button on the side of the vanity. A hidden door next to the vanity swung outwards, opening quietly into a brightly lit hallway. With a deep flourish, Nick motioned his mate to exit the room, making a show of leering up at Judy while she stepped into her panties.

"Sexy bunny," he said.

"Lecherous fox," she replied, pushing his head down playfully as she walked past him into the hallway.

Although it had appeared brightly lit, the hallway was no better than the one they had used to enter the room—the room had just been very, very dark. Nick led Judy to the end of the hall where a large metal doorway stood guarded by another panther, who nodded at them and silently pushed the metal door open. Stepping outside into a narrow back alley, the street lights were almost painful to their eyes, and, paw in paw, the couple walked along the alley to a wide avenue a good distance from the club.

Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out the note Skye had written for them. He showed it to Judy and pointed to a tall building a little ways down and across the avenue from them.

"We're here," he announced. It was 9:50 PM.


	6. Echoes of the past

Nick and Judy strolled paw-in-paw down the empty sidewalk in the quickly chilling night, their shadows stretching out in various directions from the street lights overhead. Getting closer to their destination, Judy noticed a black sedan parked directly across the street from the building that was their goal.

"Nick?" Judy asked her mate. "Isn't it a little obvious to be sitting in a car alongside an empty avenue in the middle of the night?" She motioned with her head to the black sedan. The fox chuckled.

"Not if you're ZBI," he said, and began swaying slightly and rolling his head. "Now you know why Mr. Big never worries about them."

"What are you doing?" she asked, frowning at the tod.

"Becoming invisible," he said, slurring his speech. "Just hop into my arms and start giggling." Without hesitation, Judy sprang into his arms and smiled. "Is that your idea of giggling?" Nick asked.

"I don't gig—" she started, then yelped and squirmed wildly as one of Nick's paws found her ribs and tickled her mercilessly. She wriggled laughingly out of his arms and Nick dropped to all fours, wagging his tail wildly.

"Big, bad fox gonna GETCHA!" he slurred, leaping high into the air at his wide-eyed mate. Judy squealed, barely avoiding the airborne fox as she turned tail and hopped, laughing and squealing, towards the building with Nick pouncing along noisily after her. Just in front of the building, Nick finally managed to swoop down on the bunny, rolling to a stop with his giggling mate safely curled up in his arms.

"Oh, my, Mr. Fox," Judy panted loudly. "Whatever will you do with me, now?"

Wobbling to his feet, Nick laughed wickedly and draped the bunny over his shoulder victoriously. "Mu-hua-ha-ha," he drawled, staggering up the four steps to the lobby. A jaguar tending the reception desk inside noticed them and glanced at a note posted on the edge of his computer screen:

 _Red fox and grey bunny. 10:00PM. Mr. Savage's guests._

He buzzed them through, got up to unlock the elevator for them, then went back to sit behind the reception desk, crumpling up the note and tossing it into the trashcan.

In the car across the avenue, two bored wolves shook their heads in disgust. _'Preds and prey getting it on,'_ they thought. _'This town is going to crap.'_

All during the ride up, Nick nipped playfully at his mate, wary of the security camera staring down at them. Unsure herself of what to expect at the end of the ride, Judy also kept up her part, giggling and squirming weakly in his grip. When the elevator slowed, then finally stopped, its mirrored doors soundlessly gliding open, the couple staggered out and came to a halt.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. WildeHopps," Jack greeted them, standing dressed in comfortable grey slacks and a blue polo shirt. "Welcome to my home," he said, spreading out his arms.

The room they were in could hold their whole apartment. Hardwood floors gleamed across the huge, open space, reflecting the dancing light of the flames coming from the double-wide gas fireplace far across the way from the elevator, framed on both sides by floor-to-ceiling tinted windows offering a breathtaking view of the Canal District. On either side of the fireplace, long, velvet covered sofas faced each other across a wide, glass coffee table on which warm drinks and snacks had been set. On the sofa to their right, sipping from a steaming mug, Skye lounged comfortably in white sweat pants and a loose, blue and red checkered flannel shirt.

"Have any trouble finding the place?" asked the buck. "It can get a bit daunting around here during the day," he said, ushering them towards the warmth of the fireplace. "But at night there is usually little in the way of vehicles or pedestrians to hinder one's progress."

The aroma of fresh-brewed Carrotino wafted over to Judy, who reached down eagerly to pick up a mug of the orange-foamed liquid before sitting across from Skye. Nick joined her, picking up a mug of whipped cream-topped Mocha, and Jack settled next to Skye, sipping espresso from the last mug.

Judy drank contentedly from her mug. "Think the kit-scouts downstairs could use a cup?" she mused.

"They'll be fine," said Skye, sweetly. "They go off shift at 11:00."

"And the racoon twins?" Nick asked, licking whipped cream from his snout. Jack and Skye exchanged looks.

"What raccoons?" replied Jack.

"The ones you had following us since we left our apartment," said the tod. "You know, ugly black suits, matching fur styles. Might as well be wearing ZBI name-tags."

"Those weren't ours, Nicky," said a worried-looking Skye.

"Did they follow you here?" asked Jack, tensely.

"Nah," said Nick with a wave of his paw. "We lost them in Frisky Kitties."

Skye broke into laughter and even Jack's smile almost reached the chuckling point. Judy looked at the two agents with puzzlement.

"Why is that so amusing?" she asked neither one of them in particular,

"Oh, Judy," said Skye, grinning from ear to ear while Jack suddenly busied himself drinking from his mug. "There is only the one way out of Frisky Kitties."

"Through the back rooms," added a smiling Nick.

"The back rooms?" Judy said. "I don't get it."

Skye looked in wonder at the doe. "Oh, my, what a treasure she is," she said to Nick. "I just _love_ her, Nicky—don't you _dare_ tarnish her." She smiled warmly at Judy. "Frisky Kitties is a _couples-only_ club, dear," she told her. Seeing the doe still had not made the connection, she turned to Nick. "You shameful excuse of a tod," she said to him. "You didn't tell her!"

"I was a little pressed for time, Cynthia," Nick said, defensive. "And seeing those raccoons weren't yours, I'd say I did just fine."

Skye sat up, leaning towards the fox and pointing her paw at him. "You will _not_ sit there and spout _any_ of your sorry excuses to _me, Mr. Fox_ ," Skye said. Nick's jaw dropped open and he stared speechless at the vixen, his eyes going huge and his ears laying flat in panic.

"What?" Skye said. "Did you _really_ think I didn't know?" She laughed. "You and that silly pompadour! As if a little bottle of black fur die could _ever_ cover that getup!"

"I-it was Finnic's—" Nick stammered, instantly cut off by the vixen.

"Don't you _dare_ blame your brother," she scolded. "You wanted a quick score, and it backfired."

Completely forgotten now by the foxes for a second time that day, Judy looked at Jack, who was having trouble meeting her gaze.

"Spit it out, Jack," she demanded, while Skye continued berating her mate.

The buck sighed. "Do you remember the back rooms?" he asked casually. "Anything seem…strange?"

Judy harrumphed. "You mean, other than being dark as an old burrow, having no doorknobs on the inside, a hidden door for an exit, nothing but a vanity for furniture—wonderful carpeting, though," Judy listed. Then her police training caught something else. "Shiny walls?" she wondered. Jack shook his head.

"Not walls," he said, apologetically. "One-way mirrors."

 _Click._

"OH, JUST STUFF ME WITH SWEET CHEESE AND CRACKERS!"

 _10:45 PM_

The two severely beaten raccoons came tumbling out of a slow-moving limousine, slamming to a hard stop against the large entrance sign in front of the Emergency Center at Canal District Memorial Hospital. Eyes swollen shut, multiple contusions, fractured ribs, dislocated shoulders and broken fingers topped the list of injuries noted by the attendants. Shaved in bold letters from their chest fur were the words ' _Just Observing.'_

 _11:00 PM_

When Judy had calmed down enough to stop screaming at him, Nick sat back into the sofa, completely dejected, knowing he would have to work extra-hard to get back on his mate's good side. Perhaps he _should_ have said something before taking her to Frisky Kitties. Then again…he thought back to that wild moment in the dark…

 _'_ _Bad fox,'_ he thought to himself. "I'll make it up to you, Judy," he sincerely promised his mate.

"Ohhhh, I _know_ you will," Judy shot back eerily. "And you'd better hope this never gets out."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," Jack said, reassuringly. "Frisky Kitties is a very exclusive club. The mammals who frequent the establishment are quite…discrete…and value their privacy. The management there does not take kindly to those who would violate it—it's bad for business."

"Should I even ask how you know about this place?" she asked Nick.

"Please don't," he pleaded.

Judy stared long at the tod. "You're not in the clear, Slick," she relented.

"Merciful bunny," he replied.

Judy took a deep breath and looked at the two ZIA agents. "I guess that just leaves one item open: Why are we here?"

Skye put her mug down. "We need your help," she said.

"We're trying to prevent a world war," explained Jack.

 _11:05 PM_

Even ignoring that the raccoons were not carrying any ID, which the hospital staff wrongly presumed had been stolen, having mammals tossed out of moving vehicles in front of the ER was something Hospital Security deemed worth reporting to the police.

Two officers were dispatched to the scene, where they took photos, requisitioned the CCTV footing—copied in advance by HS—interviewed witnesses, canvassed the few convenience stores open around the hospital, and were told the victims would be unavailable until at least the following afternoon to answer any questions. The attendants told the officers they considered the raccoons lucky: No permanent damage was sustained, although a lengthy recovery period was expected.

The nature of the incident put the officers' report at the top of the evening blotter and guaranteed Chief Bogo would get flagged in the morning to see if additional resources should be allocated to the investigation. It appeared likely to the two officers that either gang activity or organized crime was involved, and the Chief took those cases extremely seriously.

 _11:08 PM_

"Well, that's not something you hear every day," said Nick. "Do you hear that a lot, Carrots?"

"Think you can focus, Slick?" Judy warned. "But I have to admit," she told the two agents, "that does seem a bit unusual for two police officers to be involved with."

Skye frowned at that. "It is not something we normally run into," she admitted. "Nor is it something we like having to deal with."

"But," Jack said, "you are the only ones to have ever seen our mysterious lynx."

"And survived," finished Skye.

"Makes me feel all special," mumbled Nick. "Just what mess did Judy and I step into?"

"If you have followed international news at all," Jack said, getting up and walking to a messy desk over in the far corner behind him. "You might have noticed several recent incidents—accidents, if you will—taking place around Mammaldom at large," he continued, returning with a thick folder and laying it open on the coffee table. He spread out its contents of newspaper clippings and magazine articles for the two police officers to see. "What is remarkable about these events is the timing and similarity with one another, and—unfortunately—the fact that Zootopia and those nations friendly to her undeniably benefit extensively from them."

"What you cannot see here," Skye said, pointing to the various papers on the table, "are the incidents in areas the various governments do not make public: Things like weapons research, high-energy physics, and overseas exploration among others."

Judy frowned. "I assume you are going somewhere with all this?" she said.

"Of course," assured Jack. "But some background information will help you to get a good feel of what is going on." He got up and began pacing. "At the time of its inception," he went on while Nick and Judy rummaged through the papers, "Zootopia was envisioned to be the apex of mammal civilization. The warring nations came together with a common goal to finally end the conflict between the species and enacted the charter that founded Zootopia, to explore the limits of societal, technological and economic development away from the dark the cloud of speciesm. It was to be the light that guided Mammaldom into a prosperous, united future where predator and prey could coexist in harmony."

"And then, life happened," interjected Nick.

"Yes," acknowledged Jack. "It did, indeed. As Zootopia became the beacon it was hoped to be, it also became more than its founders intended. Those who had totally committed themselves to give up their old hatreds in favor of the dream of Zootopia realized this new child of hope could not exist as a mere puppet with its strings tugged by capricious old masters: There had to be independence." Jack kept pacing.

"But in order to secure that independence," he went on, "controls were required by the masters so that no single nation could prosper from the fruits of Zootopia at the expense of the others. Thus, the Council of Mammals was founded with the exclusive mandate of ensuring the advances made in Zootopia would be divided amenably among the nations of Mammaldom."

"Jack," said Judy, "We learned all of this in middle school."

"And good for you," said Jack, clapping with fake praise. "But what you did not learn, because it has been removed from Zootopia's records, is that Zootopia was moved to its present location during the Canine Wars, 4000 years ago. Before the Council was formed."

Judy noticed that Skye had curled up on the sofa and was watching the pacing buck with rapt attention, although there was the slightest hint of sadness in her eyes. Nick was carefully examining several photographs, though his ears aimed in the direction of the lecturing rabbit. Jack continued.

"During the siege of Thestlewich," he told them, "when it became obvious that Aptila the Hound would eventually break through the city defenses, the Emperor tasked the garrison commander with evacuating Zootopia to the South at all costs."

"What do you mean, 'evacuating Zootopia?'" asked Nick, looking up from the photos.

"Well, my russet colored friend," Jack said, preening in full teacher mode, "back in those days Zootopia was not a city. It was more like a college, or a modern-day think tank, with various species living and working 'harmoniously' together. These mammals were initially brought together in Thestlewich because, at the time, it was considered the center of the world: The first and oldest city known to exist: The Cradle of Mammal Civilization."

Nick accepted the information with a nod and was about to start examining the photos again when a large painting on the wall above Jack's cluttered desk caught his attention. Judy looked away from Jack, who had resumed his pacing lecture, when she saw her mate wander towards the desk and stare in fascination at the painting. The tod came back to the coffee table, grabbed several of the photographs, and went back to stare at the painting, occasionally glancing at the different photos in his paws.

Judy's curiosity drew her towards her mate and she stood by his side, leaning against him and looking up at the painting, trying to see what had captured the tod's attention so firmly. He put his arm around her and kissed her lightly on the head between her ears, pointing out sections of the photos in his other paw to her.

"Sweet cheese and crackers," was all she could say.

Skye, peeking over the sofa at the couple, now also found herself joining the pair, staring disbelievingly at the images while Jack continued his lecture, oblivious to his audience's departure.

"Jack," Skye called out to him, to no avail. "Jack!" she repeated, then, after no response, barked at the top of her voice.

"AGENT SAVAGE!"

Jack stopped dead in his tracks, briefly looking around for his absent audience before noticing them all standing by his desk. "What?" he asked, a little peeved.

"What is this picture?" Judy asked.

"Oh, that," Jack replied, making his way over. "That is a rendering of the signing of the Zootopia Accords," he said. "It is a replica, of course," he continued, "as the original is over 4000 years old. The fidelity of the portraits, the quality of the brushwork, all are exemplary—"

Nick laughed. "It's a forgery," he said.

"I assure you, Mr. WildeHopps," Jack said indignantly, "that it is quite authentic. It has been documented in the f—owners' family's possession for over a thousand years. The original, that is. This is just a photostatic replica, eighth-scale at that."

"Guaranteed fake," Nick said confidently. He pointed to a figure on the painting. "Who's that?" he asked.

"It is Kataiahs Lysander," Jack said proudly. "The last Imperial garrison commander of Thestlewich, whom many might call the founder of modern-day Zootopia."

Nick held up the photos in his paws, showing Jack where the tod had taken the time to circle a vague, yet recognizable face in the backgrounds. The tod pointed to the picture on the wall: it was the same face.

"That's him," Nick said. "That's our Mystery Lynx."


	7. The trail begins

**Author's Note:**

 **I hope you are all enjoying the story so far. Much is yet to come.**

 **I would love to hear how you think this narrative is going.**

 **Enjoy this next chapter.**

* * *

 _12:15 AM_

"I will say this much," conceded Jack, sitting at his desk looking at the pictures with the aid of a magnifying glass, "the resemblance is uncanny."

"So uncanny it can _only_ be him," insisted Nick with a fist-pump. He batted his eyelashes. "Can we go home, now?" he wheedled.

"Impossible," muttered Jack.

"Why? We can just call a cab," Nick said. Jack looked up at the fox, confused.

"Please, don't fluster the bunny," Skye said, walking over to the buck and massaging his shoulders. "He's had a long day."

"Whatever is going on," Judy said, stifling a yawn, "we're not going to figure it out tonight. Nick? Why don't you call Ed? He's usually available at this time."

Nick held up empty paws. "No phone," he said. "Remember?"

"You're staying here," said Jack with finality, causing Skye to look down at the buck. "I'm completely at a loss, Cyn," he explained. "I need to rethink everything. We don't even know who those raccoons were: For all we know, the WildeHopps' apartment has been compromised."

"Compromised?" Nick said, signing quotation marks in the air with his paws. "Little melodramatic, there, Stripes, don't you think?"

"Mr. WildeHopps," Jack said, standing up to face the tod. "If your convictions are correct, and the lynx you saw _is_ the same one we see in all these pictures, then we are confronted by either," he said, counting out with his fingers, "a time-traveling mammal; a 4,000-year-old mammal; a member of a 4,000-year-old lynx cult; or, one of a 4,000-year-old line of lynx-clones. And these are just the possibilities that pop into my head right now. Give me enough time, and I will come up with others."

"And?" said Nick.

"And, no one has heard of such things in all this time?" posed Jack. "Come now, Mr. WildeHopps," he said. "You're a smart mammal. It should be obvious: We are speaking of the kind of secret that mammals will kill to preserve." For added emphasis, he pointed to several of the clipped articles with headlines featuring variations of the word 'death.'

"He's got you there, Slick," said Judy. "We'll take the couch," she said cheerfully to Skye. "Dibbs on the left."

"Oh, nonsense," the vixen said warmly, taking Judy by the paw and leading her towards a hall on their right while the males continued debating. "Jack has plenty of room." She brought Judy to the first door past the bathroom. "This one should do fine," she said, opening the door. "There are grooming supplies and clean towels in the bathroom. The fur drier is also top of the line: You won't come out looking like a cotton ball."

"What about you?" Judy asked. "I don't want to put you out on the couch."

Skye laughed softly. "I'm two doors down," she said. "Jack is at the end of the hall. He gets up late and has his own bathroom—as do I—so don't worry about anyone barging in. Tomorrow morning, we'll have arrangements for you to get to the precinct. Do not go home, whatever you do. I need to have your place swept and security added before you can go back. Oh, and Jack doesn't keep much in the refrigerator, so I would suggest stopping at Snarlbuck's for breakfast."

Judy nodded, then looked at the vixen. "Why are you being so nice to me...should I call you Cynthia or Skye?" she asked.

"I prefer Skye," the vixen said, then sighed. "And you're taking care of Nicky now," she said warmly. "Nicky Black, a police officer. Who would have ever guessed? For the longest time, I thought he would end up laid out on a slab, like so many other young punks who wanted to impress my father. Thank you, Judy." She pulled the doe into an intense though brief hug, then turned and left. For a moment, Judy thought she heard what sounded like sniffles from the retreating vixen, who went into her own room and locked the door.

Nick came up and gave his mate a quick peck on the head between the ears. Together they went into their assigned room and closed the door, Judy going straight for the large bed next to the window.

"Well," she said, hopping onto the soft mattress, "I see we have a doorknob this time."

"And no 'shiny walls,'" added the tod with a wink, earning himself a pillow to the snout.

* * *

Skye lay curled up on her bed, crying quietly to herself. Thoughts jumbled together in no particular order, just a parade of regrets for the possibilities that could, now, never be. Without a doubt, this day had been an emotional roller-coaster ride for the vixen, the likes of which she had not experienced in many years. A soft knock on the door heralded a momentary distraction she really did not want.

"Go away, Jack," she said. The door opened despite her firmly wishing it not to and the striped buck came in, putting his lock-pick back in his pocket. "Remind me to install a chain," Skye told him. The rabbit hopped onto the bed next to her.

"What kind of partner would I be then, if I just let you suffer alone in misery?" he said.

"Wise? Respectful? Considerate?" she replied, staring at the wall. "The possibilities are endless."

"That's just the despair talking," he said, tousling her fur. "You love him, don't you?"

"Well, of course, I do," Skye admitted.

"Then _do_ something about it," he told her. "Challenge the bunny to a duel. You remember: twenty paces then shoot—it would be a fair fight; she actually stands a good chance of winning."

Her eyes shifted to the buck. "You really are savage, you know," she said. The buck smiled.

"Yes," he said with a wink. "Jack Savage, as a matter of fact." Skye giggled despite herself.

"What would I ever do without you, Jack?" she sighed.

"Quoting a friend of mine," he said, "'Pine away to my grave from unrequited love.'" Jack shook his head, frowning. "'Kill the Wabbit' is the much better alternative, if you ask me."

"If life were only so simple," Skye said. "It's not really about Nicky—not all of it…I mean…it's just that…Nicky…he…was my last hope." Tears began flowing again. "And n-now that I've s-seen him," she cried. "Now th-that I know he's m-made a life with s-someone e-else—" The vixen sobbed into her paws. "I kn-know I can n-never go b-back," she wailed miserably. "I ha-have n-nothing!"

"You have me, kid," Jack said warmly, stroking her fur.

Skye wailed louder.

* * *

 _5:10 AM_

Judy woke up first, which was typical except for this last month with Nick having nightmares. Her mate lay paws-up, snoring softly on the comfortable bedding. ' _Might as well let him sleep,_ ' she thought, and headed to the shower.

The water was perfect, and Judy would have to remember the brand of shampoo, which would be difficult since she could not even recognize the language on the label. She made a mental note to ask Skye, then maybe she could buy some through Mamalzon. The towels were soft as down and the fur drier worked as well as promised, leaving Judy coming out of the bathroom feeling completely energized for the day.

Nick stumbled his way into the bathroom while Judy headed towards the kitchen. Sitting at the breakfast bar in old flannel pajamas, reading the _Zootopia Daily News_ , Skye sipped at a steaming mug of coffee. Taking a moment to watch her, Judy couldn't help being jealous of the vixen. Even alone, doing something as mundane as reading a newspaper in her pajamas before the crack of dawn, she was breathtaking. It was more than simple physical looks. It was her poise, her attitude, and her mannerisms. Everything about the arctic vixen just screamed _beautiful_. Making it worse for Judy's ego, none of it was contrived: Skye simply _was_.

"You should be a model," Judy said in awe.

Skye looked up from the newspaper and laughed. "Papa would have a fit!" she said, looking at the rabbit. "Have you no shame, putting mammals up on display like that," she said in an excellent imitation of Mr. Big's voice. Judy smiled.

"Why don't you go see him," the doe asked, joining Skye at the table. "I'm sure he'd love to see you. And Fru-Fru talks about you all the time—though she never saw to mention you were a fox. Have you met her kits?"

Skye's expression fell slightly at that. "No, I haven't," she said. "Perhaps someday."

"Well, Nick and I are going to see them this weekend," Judy told her. "I'm their godmother, you know. Why don't you come with us?"

"Let's see how things stand this weekend," Skye said, not dismissing the idea outright. "I could use the change of pace. And, I do miss Uncle Koslov."

"'Morning, Carrots," Nick said, strolling into the room and planting a kiss on Judy's head. He looked at Skye. "I'm impressed. You can actually read a newspaper at this un-mammaly hour," he teased the vixen.

"I'm surprised you're even conscious," she replied.

"Who says I am?" he said. "Don't let this walking body fool you: it's on autopilot. The snout smells coffee and just drags the rest of the fox along to get it."

"Fresh pot on the counter," the vixen said with a smile. Nick went over, filled two mugs with the rich brown liquid and gave one to Judy. The rabbit's ears drooped with pleasure.

"This is incredible," she said, taking a sip, then to Nick. "Why can't you make coffee this good?"

"Just because I drink it, doesn't mean I can make it." He sat down next to her and sipped from his mug with obvious delight. "And mine, at least, comes out liquid," he added with a smirk.

"One time!" protested Judy. "One time, I put gelatin powder instead of sugar. Cheese and crackers! Who keeps gelatin powder in a jar labeled sugar?" She turned to Skye for support, but the vixen was staring apprehensively at the newspaper.

"What is it, Skye?" asked Judy. Skye turned the newspaper towards them.

 ** _LEADING SCIENTIST DISGRACED IN SCANDAL_**

 _In a shocking turn of events last evening, merely hours after senior researchers heralded claims of landmark findings, the Head of Mammalogy at the famous Plainsville Academy of Science, Dr. Stagg Elkinson, released a statement during an unscheduled press conference informing the public that Lead Researcher Dr. Gustavf Moosternson has been dismissed from the Institute and his research discredited after evidence was discovered revealing the data cited in the ground-breaking study had been falsified. Dr. Elkinson, furthermore, took personal responsibility as Department Head for the corrupted study that released falsified results to the scientific community and the population at large. "It is a great blow to this Institution that the results of a major funded project could be so easily distorted and falsified. I will…"_

A picture of Dr. Elkinson apologizing in front of the cameras with his head bowed low in disgrace took up three columns. Barely in the picture, at the upper right corner of the frame and almost invisible amongst several mammals wearing lab coats, stood Kataiahs Lysander.

"Guess you're going to Plainsville," Nick said to the vixen.


	8. Complications

**Author's Note: This chapter might be a little short. In reality, it was supposed to be part of the last one, but I wanted to release that chapter quickly, so I left this part out. And made it a separate release.**

 **Let me know your thoughts.**

 **Enjoy this chapter.**

 **PS.** **See if you can find the Easter eggs ;)**

 _6:45AM_

After stopping at Snarlbuck's, Judy asked the ocelot driving the van to drop her and Nick off a block from the precinct to avoid questions from their fellow officers. She finished her carrot-cake muffin while Nick munched happily on his second warm bugbun—a crunchy pastry stuffed with sweet cricket paste—and waved casually at Clawhauser as they passed by the dispatch desk. The fox and bunny split ways, heading towards their respective locker rooms to don their spare uniforms since they still wore their clothes from the night before.

Standing before the mirror in the females' locker room, Francine Pennington put the finishing touches to her uniform as Judy walked by. "Someone had a late ni-iight," the elephant teased her.

"You wouldn't believe the half of it, Francine," Judy told her. "We even found this one club—" The elephant quickly shushed her with a raised trunk and glanced around anxiously.

Seeing no one there, the elephant leaned down. "Judy," she whispered, conspiratorially. "The first rule about Frisky Kitties is: You don't talk about Frisky Kitties." Judy's mouth dropped open.

"The second rule," Francine said, cutting the bunny off from saying anything, "is: You don't talk about Frisky Kitties."

Stunned at the pachyderm even knowing the club's name, Judy barely managed a nod as her friend turned and walked away.

"But you were fabulous!" Francine said, looking back with admiration at the blushing bunny.

 _Oh, sweet cheese and crackers!_

 _7:05 AM_

The daily ritual of standing up and rowdily pounding their desks at morning roll-call as Chief Bogo walked in served its purpose of pumping up the officers' morale. Taking his time to let his officers have their fun, he walked slowly to the podium and arranged the morning docket.

"Settle down!" the water buffalo finally shouted to bring a semblance of order. Once his officers had resumed their seats, the Chief went through the morning's items.

"Pennington, Higgins!" Bogo snapped. "Burglary downtown at Whale's Jewelry. Looks like it could be an inside job." The two officers nodded. The Chief continued.

"Fangmeyer, Jackson! Rainforest put in a request for your assistance: They're bringing in two gang leaders you've dealt with before: Perroton and Catino," he said. "Let's try to keep them behind bars, this time." The lion and tiger team nodded.

"Delgato, Wolfard! Canal District reports possible OC activity," the Chief told them. "Canal District Memorial's hosting two raccoons in ICU tossed on their doorstep from a moving car late last night. Get their statements and follow up with the staff and the officers on the scene. The rest of you, regular patrol duty." The lion and wolf partners nodded.

Judy and Nick glanced at each other. "Chief!" they called together as Bogo gathered his papers.

The Chief sighed. "What is it, now?" he asked.

"Could we take the raccoons?" asked Judy.

"That, or parking duty, sir," added Nick, using their code phrase for the ZIA operation. The Chief glanced up but gave no other sign at how alarmed he was at the use of that phrase.

"Delgato, Wolfard," the Chief said to the more senior officers. "The WildeHopps will tag along for practice. Keep them out of trouble." The lion and wolf smiled.

"Let's get going," Wolfard said to Judy and Nick. "Wanna get going before traffic kicks in."

Nick and Delgato played a quick round of rock, paper, scissors to see who would drive. Nick won, as usual. "Passengers spring for coffee," the tod reminded the lion, walking away while donning his trademark sunglasses.

 _7:30 AM_

Always the light sleeper, Kataiahs awoke as the door to his darkened quarters opened, then closed silently. In moments, Trina's scent filled his nostrils.

"Sir," she whispered. "There has been a complication."

"What else could _possibly_ go wrong now?" he complained to the ceiling with a groan.

"Zeke lost the WildeHopps last night," answered the bunny.

"Lost _them_?" came his surprised reaction. "How?"

"Apparently, they went club-hopping though the Canal District last night, sir."

"And…what? Zeke does not like to dance?"

The bunny giggled. "No, sir," she said. "Zeke said they were stopping by certain clubs where he and Gret would likely have been spotted, so he backed off."

"That is completely reasonable, Trina," said Kataiahs, "I would not call that a complication."

"No, sir. The complication is someone else was also following the WildeHopps: A pair of raccoons. Zeke and Gret followed them as long as they could but said they had to abandon the pursuit at some place called Frisky Kitties."

The lynx let out a heartfelt laugh. "Absolutely brilliant, Mr. WildeHopps!" he let out with admiration.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Never mind, Trina. Suffice to say, the WildeHopps seem to know a bit about taking care of themselves."

"You _like_ _them_ , sir?" was her surprised reply.

"Why ever would I not?" Kataiahs asked.

"Well, sir, you did try to kill the fox, didn't you?"

Kataiahs chuckled. "Not a chance of that," he assured her. "Mammaldom has been waiting four thousand years for them. Wouldn't do, ruining all that, now, would it?"

In the dim light of the digital clock, Kataiahs saw the bunny's nose twitch in confusion.

"Just the musings of an old cat, Trina," he told her. When the bunny made no move to leave, he looked closer and noticed the indecision on her face. "Is there anything else, Trina?" he asked.

"Well…sir, I…firmly…believe mammals should not choose a life mate outside of their species…" she said, nervously.

"I already knew that, my dear," he said.

"It's…very lonely…in this strange city," she said. "We can't trust anyone, sir."

"You don't need to tell me that, Trina," he reminded her.

"I know, sir. It's just that…today…a year since the…and I…"

"Need someone to give you a hug?" he prompted gently, holding open the bed covers. Wordlessly, the bunny hopped up and snuggled into his fur. He wrapped his paws around the now shivering bunny, who began to sniffle. "There, there," he soothed her tenderly. "It's all going to work out."

He hoped he wasn't lying.

 _8:36 AM_

The four ZPD officers entered the lobby of Canal District Memorial Hospital and promptly went to the receptionist's desk, where the zebra at the counter told them they would have to get clearance from the ICU head nurse to speak with the raccoons. The officers then headed towards the Intensive Care Ward nurse station and an attractive lioness sitting at the Head Nurse's post.

"I got this," Delgato said with confidence. Wolfard snorted.

"Twenty says crash and burn," challenged Wolfard.

Eyeing the lioness with added interest, the lion grinned. "You're on," Delgato accepted.

Judy was surprised when Nick didn't join Wolfard, well aware of Delgato's success rate with females, but kept quiet as her fellow officer eagerly approached the attractive lioness behind the counter.

"Good morning, beautiful warrior princess," he said seductively. The lioness gave him a bored look.

"I'll bet you say that to all the felines," she said with disdain.

"Only the ones who outshine the sun," was Delgato's unabashed comeback.

The other three officers dropped their heads and sighed.

The lioness glanced at the clock on the wall. "I have ten minutes," she said softly, "if you don't mind the broom closet."

Delgato's three companions did a double-take.

With a pained look on his face, Delgato grasped the lioness' paws. "Would you settle for my heart, since my companions and I have urgent Police business to attend to?"

The lioness stood up, leaning forward, and pulled Delgato over to her with both paws around his neck, giving the grinning lion a long, solid kiss on the lips.

"You're mine, now," she growled possessively.

"Now, and forever," Delgato said. "Can we see the raccoons?"

"They're awake and having breakfast," the nurse told him. "Room 203."

Delgato turned to his colleagues without a word and guided them down the hall. Standing before the door to room 203, Delgato held out his paw to Wolfard. Grunting, the wolf reached for his wallet and handed the lion a $20 bill.

At the other end of the hall, hanging over the counter, the lioness waved at Delgato. "I'm off at five, Alex," she called out. "I'll see you at the station." Delgato gave her a paws-up. Wolfard glared at the lion.

"It's called a hustle, sweetheart," Delgato drawled.

"You've been hanging around Nick too long," Wolfard grumbled. Nick smiled.

"Keeping secrets, Slick?" Judy asked her mate. He shrugged.

"Oh, just overheard a couple of things here and there," he said. "Plus, I figured, nobody can strike out forever, right?" He smirked at Delgato. "After all, nobody's perfect." The lion placed his paws over his heart as if shot.

"Are we done, here?" said Wolfard. Delgato gave the fox a high-five.

Judy shook her head. "Kits," she said and knocked on the door.

The officers entered the room to see the two raccoons laid out on hospital beds, sporting casts on several limbs and tubes and wires poking out from various locations. A television hanging above the door had the ZNN morning news playing with the sound off. Breakfast for the battered mammals consisted of drinking a nasty-looking concoction through a thick straw. Seeing Wolfard and Delgato, the raccoon on the left put down his cup.

"We are attacked! No reason!" he managed through his bandaged muzzle, speaking with a heavy foreign accent.

"They criminals! Bullies!" cried out the other raccoon. "We need justice!"

Wolfard nodded, then motioned to Judy and Nick. "Officers WildeHopps will be glad to take your statements," the wolf told the patients. Making a considerable effort to see below Wolfard's head, the raccoons stared at the fox and bunny, then started jabbering back and forth quickly in whatever their native language was.

The raccoon on the left glared at Wolfard. "We talk Baratean Embassy!" he shouted. "We get diplomatic immunity!" He picked up his cup and began drinking again, glaring defiantly at the four ZPD officers. The raccoon on the right made a point of looking at the television and nothing else.

"End of statement," said Nick.


	9. Heating up

_8:38 AM_

"Bloody hell!" Jack let out, seeing the alarm clock. He'd overslept two hours! The buck leaped out of bed, tossed on his robe, and headed to Skye's room.

Finding the door open and the room tidied up, he kept going, passing Nick and Judy's room in the same state, and finally making it to the kitchen. Hopping onto a chair by the breakfast bar, he noticed a sticky-note on the morning newspaper with an arrow pointing to the likeness of Kataiahs Lysander. The note said ' _Gone to Plainsville. C U 2nite._ '

Below the message was a small, stylized drawing of a vixen's head blowing a heart.

 _'What the…'_ Jack thought, staring at the drawing. Quickly dismissing the alarming thoughts the drawing brought out, the buck started a fresh pot of coffee before heading to the shower to freshen up. _'We have a lead!'_ he thought, hopping up and slapping the ceiling.

* * *

 _8:47 AM_

Plainsville Central was a busy train station, though not as much as Zootopia Central, nor for the same reasons. Whereas Zootopia Central mainly handled passenger traffic, Plainsville Central was basically a massive cargo station, carrying heavy manufactured goods from Plainsville to the other countries comprising the unofficial Zootopian Commonwealth: Zootopia, Mountanview, and Bunnyburrow. There was also strong and visible ZDF presence, a sad but necessary requirement with the Great Escarpment making up the western border of the industrial nation.

Stepping off the express bullet-train, Skye made a circuitous route to the car she had arranged to take her to the Institute, under the assumption—after hearing Nicky and Judy's account of the two raccoons—that she, too, was being followed. She also kept her personal scrambler activated on account of the lynx they could now at least pin a face and name to: Kataiahs Lysander—regardless of what else or how old the mammal might be.

The hot climate of Plainsville was uncomfortable but bearable to the arctic vixen—a dry heat, as the locals said—so Skye wore the thinnest outfit she could that would not attract undue attention, which in Plainsville was quite thin, indeed. She smiled, remembering the times when she would have dressed to draw maximum attention and used that to get what she needed. ' _Have I become respectable?_ ' she mused.

Stepping up to a vehicle waiting under the shade of a palm tree, she tapped on the passenger window and leaned down so the driver, a white, female alpaca in a sheer purple dress, could see her face. Rolling down the window, the driver smiled. "Do you need a ride?" she asked, the passphrase for safety. Otherwise she would have said, "You should get out of the heat."

Skye answered with her own safe passphrase, "The Plainsville Suites would be nice," and got in next to the driver. The air conditioner was running full-blast and felt wonderful to the vixen.

"Long time, no see, Skye," the alpaca told her, pulling into traffic. "You dump that two-timing rabbit yet?"

"Jack?" she said. "We're not dating, Lila."

The alpaca snorted. "Hah! I see my husband half as much as you two see each other—and we work in the same office!"

"We _are_ partners, you know," Skye said.

"Is _that_ what you call it?" Lila winked. "Honey, Ron and I've been on the _recording_ side of some of your ops. That's how Oscar _and_ Daisy came about," she told the vixen, referring to the alpaca's youngsters.

"We need to maintain cover, you know," Skye replied weakly. The alpaca gave a hearty laugh.

"You deserve better, Skye," she said, skillfully maneuvering through the morning traffic. "But if that buck tickles your fancy, who am I to naysay? You Zootopians are quite the liberals, after all: I read the stories about those two cops. Foxes and bunnies! You're part of a trend!"

"The WildeHopps are quite devoted to each other, I'll have you know," Skye said.

"Devotion is fine, mammal," Lila said. "But it won't fill the nursery."

"There is more to life than kits, you know."

"You keep telling me what I know, Skye," Lila said. "That's a _sure_ sign you're having doubts."

"Can we just go to the Institute, please?" Skye said, a little flustered.

"Aren't _we_ touchy, today," Lila teased.

"Please, Lila!"

"It's your life, sweetie," the alpaca said. "You know I care about you, Skye."

"I know, Lila. It's just…been a rough couple of days."

The two rode in silence the rest of the way to the Institute, where Lila pulled up to the curb in front of the main building.

"Director wants to see you when you're done," the alpaca told Skye as the vixen exited the car. Skye nodded, then went up the steps into the lobby, pulling a clipboard and a pair of glasses from her bag.

* * *

 _10:30 AM_

Chief Bogo stared down at his two smallest officers sitting in the chair in front of his desk. "Would either of you care to explain why the State Department is melting my phone with complaints about an international incident?" He pointed a hoof at Nick, who looked about to speak. "Not you!" he said. The tod's mouth snapped shut.

"Sir," Judy said, "Last night we were being followed—"

"You were being followed?" Bogo's voice rose significantly in pitch. "And you didn't think to call that in?"

Judy's ears drooped. "Well, sir, I—"

"I expect such things from him," he said, pointing to Nick, who put his paws to his chest in surprise. "But, you? You are my best officer! How could you _not_ call in such a thing?"

"Sir, we didn't have our phones—and I didn't really know until we got to Frisky Kitties, and—" Bogo shushed her with his paw.

"First rule of Frisky Kitties…" he said, looking around.

"Yeah, yeah," Judy said, "you don't talk about Frisky Kitties. Sweet cheese and crackers! Does _everyone_ know about that place but me?"

"Apparently," Nick mumbled. Judy's ear flicked. "Oww! Watch the eye!"

"OK," said the chief. "What's done is done. I assume those ZIA agents were the reason you left yourselves cut off from any help the ZPD could have given?"

Judy took out the small scrambler Jack had given them and put it on the desk. The device glowed green.

"And that is?" asked the Chief.

"A scrambler, courtesy of ZIA," answered Nick. He looked at Judy. "But we're not supposed to use it unless we're moving."

"We should be safe for a few minutes," Judy said with more hope than conviction. "Sir, something really strange is going on, and those raccoons are tail-deep in it. The ZIA doesn't even want us to go back to our apartment until they clear it and add security."

Bogo frowned. "Where are you staying, then?" he asked.

"With the two agents, same as last night, I guess," Judy told him. "It's supposed to be a safe-house."

"I don't like it," the water buffalo told her. "I should pull the plug on this whole thing."

"I think it is too late for that, sir," Nick said. "If foreign spies are following us now, we're going to have to play it out. We don't even know _why_ we are being followed."

"We need to look closer at that B&E, Chief," Judy said. "That's where it all started." She held up her carrot pen. "I also recorded the exchange between those raccoons before they clammed up. I'll bet the ZIA has someone that can understand it."

The Chief pondered that for a moment. "Agreed," he said. "But no more heroics from you two." He pointed a hoof at them. "You _will_ keep phones with you at all times— _All_ times. Are we clear?" The officers nodded. "Good. Go down to Tech Support and check out two encrypted phones. I'm told they're the same as ZIA uses, so there shouldn't be any complaints from them. I will also have Tech Support give you an encrypted link and I will expect _daily_ updates from you posted to that link, whether we speak in person or not." The two officers nodded. "If you need other resources, you let me know. I _will_ get to the bottom of this."

Nick and Judy jumped down from the seat and headed out the door.

"Wilde! Hopps!" Bogo called out. The pair looked at him. "You are not to get shot: It reflects bad on the precinct."

* * *

 _10:45 AM_

Jack walked into his office at the ZIA's Zootopia Field Center, drawing surprised looks from many of the staffers in the cubicles outside. _SrFDIC Jack Savage_ was on his door's official nameplate. The door to the office next to his had a similar nameplate, _SrFDIC Skye_. It still irked Jack that Cynthia could get away with an official mononym, like _Gazelle_. But other than Jack himself, Nick WildeHopps was the only mammal he had ever seen call Cynthia by her given name and remain unscathed.

A bobcat who looked fresh off the Farm came rushing in behind him.

"Sir," he said officiously. "This is Director Savage's office. You shouldn't be in here."

Jack ignored him and ceremoniously settled into his comfortable office chair, leaning back and putting his feet up on the desk.

"Be a good chap and get me an espresso, would you?" Jack asked politely.

"I'm going to call security if you don't step away from the Director's desk," the bobcat replied. Jack gave him a curious look.

"Hmmm," Jack said, pensively. "So, how long have you been working here, anyway—Kurf?" he asked, squinting to see the bobcat's badge.

"Kurt," the bobcat corrected him. "I've been working here over two months. Now, if you please…"

"Has it been two months, already?" Jack shook his head. "My, how time does fly."

A cream-colored sheep poked her head in the doorway. "Just pop in to abuse my staff again, Jack?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Matilda," Jack told her. "We do still have the espresso machine, don't we?"

"Of course, Jack," she replied matter-of-factly. Then to the bobcat, "Kurt, go fetch the director an espresso, would you? Jack always breaks the darn thing when he tries to do it himself."

Kurt was looking from the sheep to the buck and back again, eyes somewhat wild. "He's a _rabbit_?"

"Hare, actually, old boy," Jack told him. "World of difference, in case you didn't know."

"A _rabbit_?" Kurt stammered.

"You always did get the cream of the crop, Matilda," Jack told the sheep.

"Well, most mammals picture a wolf or a panther when they hear about your exploits," Matilda mused.

"But—a _rabbit_?" Kurt repeated.

"I think he's blown a fuse, Matty," Jack said with a frown. "Could you be a dear and get me some coffee? We have a lot to do this morning. Oh, and…" he gestured towards the bobcat.

Matilda came in and took Kurt by the paw, leading him out of Jack's office. "Nice to see you, Jack," she said.

* * *

 _11:15 AM_

Back in the car with Lila, Skye picked up her vibrating phone and stared at it with surprise. An unknown number, but a secure, encrypted one at that.

"You going to answer that, sweetie?" asked the alpaca.

"I don't know who it is," she replied.

"And you're expecting a telemarketer to reach out with a government secure phone," Lila said, sarcastically.

With a sheepish smile, the vixen swiped the screen to accept the call. After a second, the familiar tone of the secure phones pairing up came through.

"Agent Skye," the vixen said.

 _"Hey, Skye. It's me: Judy,"_ came the doe's voice, clear of any background noise in the unique manner of secure connections.

"Where did you get a secure phone?" Skye wondered.

 _"Tech Support. Chief says it's the same stuff you guys use."_

"Ah. Well, at least we don't have to worry about your phones, now. One victory, at least."

 _"Maybe more,"_ Judy told her, enthusiastically. _"At row-call today, we got a report about OC/gang activity in the Canal District. Get this: two_ raccoons _were dumped from a moving car in front of Canal District Memorial ER last night."_

Skye let out a short victory howl. "Please tell me you went there," she said.

 _"Oh, yeah. Along with Wolfard and Delgato,"_ Judy told her, _"and as soon as the raccoons saw them, they started clamoring for justice."_ Judy laughed. _"Which lasted until they caught sight of Nick and me. Then they started chattering between themselves and suddenly clammed up, yammering something about diplomatic immunity."_

"Diplomatic immunity?" Skye wondered.

 _"That's what they said,"_ Judy told her. _"They wanted to speak to the Baratean Embassy."_

"I don't suppose you could remember some of the words they said?"

 _"Better. I have it recorded on my trusty carrot-pen—never leave home without it."_

"You are a marvel!"

 _"Nice of you to notice,"_ Judy beamed at the compliment. _"What do you want us to do with it?"_

"Let me text you the address of the Field Office. Jack should be there. Meet him after lunch and we'll conference. Say, around 1:00? In the meantime, the Operations Director wants to speak with me."

 _"OK. Talk to you then,"_ Judy said, then hung up.

* * *

 _11:30 AM_

Judy's new phone beeped with the text message from Skye. She pressed the _Find Address_ button and the navigation app showed her the location of the ZIA's supposed Field Office, about 15 minutes away. The location preview picture also showed the sign to an office: _Universal Imports_.

"I think Skye sent me the wrong address," she said to Nick, who was reviewing the report of the B&E where he had gotten shot.

"Why do you think that?" he asked.

"There's a company listed at this address: _Universal Imports._ "

"Did you expect _'Spooks'R Us'_?"

"No, I expected _'ZIA Field Office_.'"

"Just to let the bad guys know where to look?"

"Oh. I guess that makes sense." Her stomach growled. "Why don't we head out? That carrot cake muffin has officially been used up."

"Shoulda had a bugbun," Nick told her. Judy shivered.

"I can barely swallow a bite of a Bugaburger, Slick," she said, blandly. "No way sweet insect goop is going to stay down."

"Don't know what you're missing," he said, shaking his head.

"Like sweet bug paste spewed all over your uniform?" She laughed. "I'll pass!"

"How about pizza?" Nick suggested. "Pizza's always good."

"Stradale's?" Judy asked, typing furiously on the phone.

"Is it on the way?"

Judy showed him the map. "One-minute detour!"

"Pizza Stradale it is," Nick said, enthusiastically paw-bumping his mate. Paw-in-paw, the couple headed out.

Getting into their cruiser, the officers could not know they were under observation from cameras on the building across the parking lot. Watching from the computer on her desk, Trina alerted Zeke and Gret, who proceeded to follow them to the renowned pizza restaurant.

Nick and Judy were able to go right in, the owner being a friend of Nick's. Zeke and Gret, on the other hand, had no choice but to wait in their car as the line to get in was over two hours, and settled for grumbling over Circle-Z stale bug-burgers and fries. When the officers came out, carrying five very large pizza boxes, Gret leaned his head against the steering wheel and let out an envious groan.

Zeke patted him on the back. "No sacrifice, no glory," he consoled him.

The two followed the police cruiser at a safe distance, quite easy to do as the towering police lights made the cruiser easily visible. When they approached a familiar building, Zeke put in a call to Trina.

"They're at the ZIA Field Office," he informed the bunny.

 _"That can't be good,"_ she said. _"I'll let Kataiahs know. You might as well get comfortable—and don't let Gret fall asleep again."_

"I hear you," Zeke said and ended the call. "No sleeping this time," he said to Gret and laid his seat back.

The ZIA Field Office was in a plain, four-story, glass-fronted shop and office complex on the corner of a busy intersection on the outskirts of the downtown area. The first floor housed several shops ranging from clothing boutiques to a drug store, and even a small diner. There was a gate leading to a parking lot underground, but it was barely large enough for the Police cruiser to fit, and the ferret attending the booth just raised the gate, waving them in rather than make them take a ticket. They were lucky enough to find an empty parking space right next to an area marked _Emergency Vehicles_ close to the elevator, and Nick got out and carried the pizza boxes while Judy locked up the cruiser.

They waited for the large elevator, Nick growing increasingly impatient as they watched the floor indicator slowly increase, pause, and continue all the way from 1 to 4 before reversing the process coming down to P1.

"About time," he mumbled as the elevator doors opened and let out several mammals dressed in blue maintenance coveralls and caps. The last mammal out, a bobcat with _Kurt_ embroidered on a white name tag, held the sliding doors open for them.

"Thanks," Judy told him, getting into the elevator after Nick.

"Have a good day, officer," the bobcat replied, heading after the others.

A directory next to the control panel showed Universal Imports as the only business on the fourth floor, so Judy pressed the 4 button and the elevator—to the relief of her mate—went straight to the fourth floor, opening into a large reception area. Behind a counter in front of a wall decorated with a huge Universal Imports logo, a well-dressed female leopard looked up in confusion.

"Who ordered...pizza…?" she started, then noticed their police uniforms. "Officers?"

"Special Delivery for Jack Savage," announced Nick, placing the boxes on the counter. "Get 'em while they're hot." The leopardess stared.

"Nick," Judy said, slowly getting on her knees and putting her paws on her head. "I just heard an alarm go off; I think we're going to have company."

Nick glanced over his sunglasses to see a hint of a smile on the leopard's face. "Really?" he sighed. The leopardess nodded, so he imitated Judy's pose not a second before they were surrounded by large mammals clothed in black tactical gear pointing dart guns and tazers at them.

"What is going on here?" came the irritated voice of a cream-colored sheep walking into the room.

The leopardess stood up. "These two waltzed in here dressed as cops with a 'pizza delivery' for Jack Savage," she explained, pointing at the pizza boxes.

The sheep glanced at a black-garbed bear holding a tazer to Nick's head. "Clear those out," she said, gesturing to the pizza boxes.

"BELAY THAT!" came from Jack, rushing into the room to place himself between the bear and the pizza boxes with his arms spread wide. "What is _wrong_ with you mammals!" he said, staring at the armed group. He turned and sniffed the topmost pizza box appreciatively. "This is nothing less than a Vegetarian Supreme Delight from Pizza Stradale!" He turned and looked at the police officers with something resembling respect. "You continue to surprise me, Mr. and Mrs. WildeHopps. No one bearing pizza from Stradale's—especially for lunch—can be bad in my book." The striped-faced buck picked up the pizza boxes and headed down the hall towards the cafeteria.

"Can we get up now?" Nick asked the sheep who was staring along with everyone else at the retreating buck.

"Let 'em go," she said. "Lunchtime, everyone!"

* * *

 **Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this installment.**

 **It really should be longer, but I wanted to get what I have out to you.**

 **Hopefully I can get the next part released over the weekend.**

 **I'd love to know your thoughts about how I'm doing.**

 **Till next time!**


	10. Who's on FIrst

_11:45 AM_

Skye drew much attention as she walked past several cubicles and in to the Operations Director's office. The Director was large, grey fox named Arthur Foxworth who, at one time, had been her supervisor. He was also very handsome, enough so that Skye had considered giving in to his advances during her early days at the Agency. But she had put an abrupt halt to those thoughts after she learned about his mate and three kits.

"Ah, so good to see you, Skye," the Director greeted her from behind his desk.

"Lovely seeing you, too, Arthur," she said, sitting in a chair across from him. "How are Candace and the kits?" _'Might as well squash any ideas early,_ ' she thought.

"Absolutely great," he told her. "I really need to thank you for putting me in my place all those years ago." Arthur showed a sincere smile. "It forced me to work on my marriage, and now it's better than ever." The grey fox went on to summarize many of the changes he had made in his life and seemed likely to keep going all afternoon until Skye cut him short after twenty minutes.

"I am really glad it worked out for you, Arthur," she told him. "But I am sure you wanted to see me for reasons other than—gratitude." Something didn't feel right to the vixen. Arthur had never been this sociable—charming, yes; social, no.

"How right you are, my dear Skye," he said, turning on all that charm she remembered and setting off all her alarm bells. "Do you ever wonder, had we—?"

"Honestly, Arthur?" she said softly, setting her bag down and stretching luxuriously while standing up, her flimsy dress giving him a full view of her figure. She walked around the desk swaying her hips and arching her tail all the way over her shoulder, swiveled the wide-eyed Director's chair to face her, then lifted her dress and gently straddled the tod. "I have," she whispered into his ear, grinding her hips into his lap. "I've thought about you _so_ much."

Arthur threw his arms around her and began nuzzling her neck. Skye's paws traveled quickly beneath her dress, unzipped his pants and reached into his briefs. "It would be _such_ a shame to lose this," she murmured, planting her tazer against the tod's ready member. Arthur jolted at the touch of the cold metal tips.

"Ah, ah," Skye told him. "Not much wiggle room down here," she warned. "I would really hate depriving Candace of your services."

"Have you lost your mind, Skye?" the Director growled, but otherwise not moving.

"You have been delaying me, Arthur," she said, sweetly. "You have ten seconds to tell me why."

"What are—"

"Nine…eight…seven…"

"You—"

"Six," she said, making sure he could feel her paw tightening on the trigger.

"Wait—"

"Four…three…two…o—"

"OK, OK! You win, you crazy b—"

"Be nice," she warned, twisting the tazer. "Oh, poor Arthur," she said, condolingly. "Down so quickly?"

"Would you mind getting off?" Arthur said, indignantly.

"Mmmmh," she purred. "But I'm afraid you're not up to the task, anymore." She wiggled the tazer. "Now, then, time for answers. My patience is almost gone."

"They will be coming through that door any minute—"

"And you will be half the handsome fox you are now," she interrupted him with mock disappointment. "Now, where was I? Oh, that's right: One…" she pressed the tazer deeper into his crotch.

"Why did you have to go and poke your nose into the Institute?" he let out in a rush.

"Why do _you_ care where I poke my nose, Arthur?" She nuzzled his cheek. "I thought you liked my nose."

"There are things you just don't know," he said.

"Enlighten me, Arthur," she said, but the tod was looking at the clock. "Then again," she continued, "seeing as you are more preoccupied with the clock than this nubile young vixen in your lap…" Skye flipped the tazer around and jabbed the other end against the tod's thigh, letting a hidden needle in the handle inject a fast-acting tranquilizer into the Director. His eyes glazed over, and he slumped against her, unconscious.

Sliding off the limp mammal, she went through his desk and put his phone and Carrot-book into her bag, then smeared some of her lipstick on the Director's underwear out of mischief. For good measure, she took out her pheromone bottle and liberally sprayed his crotch with it, flooding the room with the scent of _Skye in Heat_. She took off her panties, mussed up her fur and dress, then headed boldly to the door. Taking a deep breath, she put on a sultry smile and walked out of the office, looking behind her at the sleeping grey fox.

"It was _really_ good to see you again, Arthur," she called to him as the Director's executive assistant approached. Sky closed the door and shook her head at the male antelope. "He's going to need a few minutes," she said politely, making a show of straightening her clothes and fur. The antelope was confused, but in a nearby cubicle, a coyote caught the unmistakable scent wafting out of the Director's office and looked over to the antelope.

"He needs the time, Jeff," the coyote said, then, looking to Skye with amusement. "I thought you were with Jack?"

Discreetly, but still in plain sight of the two mammals, she put her panties into her bag and smiled. Finally understanding, the antelope turned and made a quick exit, shaking his head.

"Whatever gave you that idea, Carl?" she said coyly, blowing the coyote a kiss and strutting down the hall to leave the building. Her heart pounded as she considered the implications of her session with Arthur. She typed furiously on her phone and sent the text to Jack.

 _Plainsville compromised. Need extraction._

* * *

 _12:30 PM_

The pizza was all gone, leaving behind boxes and crumbs strewn over the tables like trees and leaves after a hurricane. Mammals gathered around as Jack stood up on his chair and called for attention.

"Over the past few weeks," he said, "the fruit of your arduous work has brought to my attention that there are strange goings-on taking place in Zootopia and her neighbors." He gestured towards Nick and Judy. "For those of you completely out of touch with the real world," he said, eyeing the blushing receptionist, "let me introduce Nick and Judy WildeHopps, Zootopia's first rabbit and fox police officers.

"If you are wondering why they are here, you should know it was their response to a routine breaking and entering call that triggered the sudden increase of activity you have all been monitoring and reporting. Therefore, as of yesterday, officers WildeHopps have been assigned to us through Zootopia Article 7, the Common Defense Pact." There were several alarmed looks from the mammals around the table.

"Are we at war, sir?" inquired the deep voice a bear.

"Thankfully, no," Jack assured. "But not by much. Mountainview _and_ Bunnyburrow have both reported troops amassing near their borders, and our embassies in Assia and Beaverdam have reported similar activity at the borders of those countries. The result is the largest mobilization of ZDF units in thirty years. The Fleet has cleared the ports and the Air Corps has all its airships flying round the clock. Everyone seems to be on a hair trigger." There were murmurs all around.

"There has been nothing about this in the news _or_ the daily briefings," protested a capybara.

"And there won't be, unless we fail," Jack said.

"Fail at what, sir?" asked a muskrat.

"That is where it gets tricky," Jack said with a frown. "We don't know. But the WildeHopps believe they might have another clue." The buck explained—without unnecessary details—about the incident of the previous night and the encounter with the raccoons by the two officers a few hours earlier. "Mrs. WildeHopps, if you would, can you play that recording for us now?"

Judy stood up from her seat next to Nick and hit the rewind button on her pen, then placed the carrot-shaped device on the table in a spot relatively clear of debris. "I hope someone here can understand this," she said, and pressed play.

 _"…_ _at any rate, are you doing me or not?"_ came her voice from the pen, loud and clear.

The ensuing silence was broken by an irate Judy leaping at the flat-eared Nick.

"YOU DIDN'T ERASE THE PEN?" she yelled, grabbing her mate by the collar. Several amused smiles broke out around the room, but they soon vanished as the recording continued playing and Jack suddenly swore.

"Get Kurt on the Box NOW!" the buck shouted.

Matilda tossed Jack the secure communicator she had been carrying around her neck for the past half-hour. Jack nimbly caught it and keyed the microphone, activating the link.

"Alpha Team, ABORT, ABORT!" he commanded.

 _"_ _Alpha Team,"_ came Kurt's voice after less than a second. " _Negative, sir. We just entered,"_ reported the bobcat. _"Tell the WildeHopps they left something out of the fridge: The air is ripe in here."_ Jack swore again.

"Alpha Team, exit _extreme_ haste," he said calmly. "You smell an organic incendiary. You have at most thirty seconds before the premises go up in flames. Seal the door on your way out or we'll lose the whole building."

Matilda at once was on her cell phone calling the Fire Department and Judy had given up trying to strangle Nick, instead curling up in the tod's arms, ears folded behind her and lavender eyes wide in concern while her mate gently nuzzled her head with a look of controlled anger on his face. Over the speaker, the sounds of rushing mammals evacuating came through, and it was a credit to their training that no one panicked. Finally, the sound of a door slamming shut followed by the bobcat calling for a door jammer and spray foam.

 _"_ _Premises secured,"_ Kurt said. _"Luckily the apartment door opens inwards—"_ A loud boom interrupted the bobcat. _"Move away from there! Victor: Downstairs to 404—get them out NOW. Everybody else, start knocking on doors! Floor by floor_ _ _—_ today everyone gets out. Let's go!"_

Jack turned to the now angry and determined Judy. "I truly am very sorry, Judy," he said heavily. "I—" Jack's phone buzzed loudly. He handed the secure communicator back to Matilda and reached for his clamoring phone, swiping to unlock it and see the message displayed.

 _Message from: Skye, 12:50 PM: Plainsville compromised. Need extraction._

"BLOODY HELL!"

* * *

 _1:15 PM_

Trina rushed in to Kataiahs' office and turned the surveillance monitor to ZNN. The lynx watched impassively, knowing Trina would not barge in unannounced without good reason, and as he read the scrolling news ticker at the bottom of the display, a growing sense of anger arose in him. It was obvious when the news anchor, Peter Moosebridge, received notice in his ear piece of what Kataiahs had just read, as he abruptly stopped speaking.

 _"_ _This just in,"_ the moose continued with the strangely calm voice typical of his profession. _"An explosion with ensuing fire has been reported in a downtown residential district,"_ he said, and took hold of some papers hastily passed to him by a producer. He quickly scanned the papers and set them down.

 _"_ _At approximately 12:45 this afternoon, the Zootopia Fire Department was notified of an explosion and fire in an apartment located in the Acacia neighborhood of downtown Savannah. Mammals at the scene tell of a large explosion with gouts of flame shooting out of the apartment several feet and blowing out several windows in nearby buildings. We go, live now, to our on-scene reporter, ZNN's Katman Dooh."_ The screen changed to a view of an old but well-kept brown brick building on a corner, several mammals in yellow ZFD garb running around carrying hoses and other equipment. Various spectators on the sidewalk stood looking up, many taking pictures with cell phones, and the camera panned up to the top floor of the five-story building, where smoke billowed out from several windows on the corner of the building. The windows of several adjacent buildings were also visible, many with broken or altogether missing glass. The scene shifted to a male jaguar holding a ZNN microphone.

 _"_ _Yes, Peter,"_ he said. _"We are here at the corner of Growles and Tomcat, where just over thirty minutes ago this normally quiet, residential neighborhood of Acacia was rocked to its foundations by what many here on the street are calling an act of terrorism."_ The scene changed to show an aged impala in a classical doorman's uniform with "George" on the name-tag.

 _"_ _Terrorism, I tell ya!"_ the old mammal said, speaking into the microphone. _"That apartment belongs to the nice police couple. I'm sure they musta made some enemies, being the good cops they are! You know how some mammals just love to hate!"_

The jaguar reporter was back on screen.

 _"_ _The 'police couple' mentioned by the building's doorman just happens to be the famed rabbit and fox couple, ZPD officers Judy and Nicholas WildeHopps, who have been living at this address for almost five years. Sources inside Police Headquarters tell me officers WildeHopps have not been seen since earlier this morning, when the duo left for an early lunch break, and ZPD CSI units are here at the scene standing by, waiting anxiously to enter the smoldering ruins of the apartment as soon as ZFD gives the OK, unsure if they will find the bodies of their colleagues and one of Zootopia's favorite couples, Judy and Nick WildeHopps inside. This is ZNN's Katman Dooh, reporting. Back to you, Peter."_

A somber-faced Peter Moosebridge returned to the screen.

 _"_ _And there you have it, live from Acacia in Savannah District_ ," he said. _"In a brief statement issued only moments ago, ZPD Chief Adriene Bogo announced that a news conference will be held once ZFD and CSI have had a chance to inspect the scene, which, for the time being, has not—repeat, has not—been classified as a crime scene. With officers Judy and Nicholas WildeHopps still unaccounted for, Chief Bogo has strongly emphasized the need to avoid any speculation concerning them. We will keep you informed of any developments on this shocking event as the day goes on. This is Peter Moosebridge, reporting on ZNN."_

"Get Zeke on the phone," Kataiahs said. "I want to know where the WildeHopps are."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well, there you go. I hope you enjoyed this installment as a separate chapter.**

 **Over 1,000 views! Wow. Thanks, everyone, for your continued appreciation.**

 **As always, comments are welcome and encouraged, as I try to enhance my story telling skills.**

 **Until next update, enjoy!**


	11. Never Simple

_1:24 PM_

"No, sir," Zeke said into his phone. "They haven't left…. No, we haven't taken a nap, either. Unless there's a back way out of that parking lot, that police cruiser is still in there… OK, sir… Yes, sir. Will do." Zeke put his phone away.

"Does he want us to go in?" Gret asked.

"Nope. Just stay out of sight and report." He opened the car door and got out. "Time for some coffee."

* * *

 _2:03 PM_

Judy and Nick, along with Jack and Matilda, had a conference call with Chief Bogo and the Mayor after Jack had tried—and failed—to contact Skye. The buck was not overly concerned at being unable to reach his partner; Jack said the vixen would follow protocol and remove the battery from her phone to prevent any chance of tracking. He also told them that he and Skye had pre-arranged pick-up points for just such an emergency.

The Chief and Mayor had agreed with Jack that it would be best for now if the public believed Judy and Nick were dead. Based on what Jack had heard on the recording Judy had made at the hospital that morning, the general consensus was the Baratean government was responsible for the explosion: It had been the task of the two raccoons to make sure Nick and Judy stayed away from their home long enough for another team to set the booby-trap, and then ensure the couple was home when the device went off.

Their detour through Frisky Kitties inadvertently derailed the outcome of those plans. But it could not prevent the second team from doing their job as the destruction of Nick and Judy's apartment proved. Thankfully, no one had been injured; the ZIA team had evacuated all the tenants without a hitch and departed before the fire department arrived, to the disappointment of many who wanted to thank them.

The Mayor had hopes that if everyone believed such popular mammals as Nick and Judy had been the victims of a nefarious plot (Nick's choice of wording), Judy's recording could be useful in back-channel negotiations with the Baratean government. To Jack's thinking, that was only a remote possibility; it was common knowledge that the Baratean government did not give much weight to public opinion—not surprising for a nation that still supported slavery, Judy thought.

Chief Bogo would take care of the media at the press conference later that afternoon, now scheduled for 6:00 PM. Jack had given them grisly assurance that he had access to cadavers of foxes and rabbits of close enough appearance to pass for Judy and Nick under the circumstances. He also had detailed knowledge of the device used in their apartment, which would he use to make the substitute bodies pass any cursory examination except a DNA test. The staged bodies would arrive at the City Morgue after some shenanigans to fool the media which, combined with Judy and Nick's phones still being in their apartment, should make the illusion hold for as long as they needed. The ZIA would later take 'credit' for the entire operation to maintain the Mayor's office and the ZPD's reputation clear of any misdoings or accusations of fraud.

Based on the nature of the incendiary device, they decided to announce the 'deaths' of the two ZPD officers as an accident from a gas leak, though Nick had insisted the accident appear as his fault and not the building's owner, who was a long-time friend of his and had sold them their apartment for a price way, way below market value—for reasons Nick did not want to discuss. Judy made a mental note to herself about that for later; she trusted her mate, but still wanted to hear the whole story; whether he liked to admit it or not, Nick still made mistakes at times.

So, the official story would be: Police couple dies in a gas explosion caused by the improper DYI installation of a gas range (which, if anyone investigated, they had actually purchased a few months earlier and had a general contractor friend of Nick's install for the cost of the first meal off the new range. And beer. Plenty of beer, Judy recalled.) Zootopia's first rabbit and fox police officers would officially go on record as dying from:

Being terminally cheap, Judy had teased her mate, who did have a stubborn streak when it came to things like paying installation fees.

Their Mystery lynx, Kataiahs Lysander, did not seem to play a role this time around, but that was mostly speculation on their part—what little information they had on him indicated someone who preferred a more direct, personal touch rather than using multiple teams of henchmen. Which left the Barateans standing alone as the culprits for reasons still unknown to them and, unfortunately, the only Barateans they could ask about it were hiding under the veil of Diplomatic Immunity. Therefore, they had found themselves at a dead end and their best way to recover was faking the deaths of Judy and Nick; maybe the Barateans would make a mistake.

The Chief had also agreed, at Jack's insistence, to let Judy and Nick be a part of Skye's extraction team, and Judy, for one, was glad for the opportunity. Otherwise, she knew she would just brood over the loss of their apartment and everything in it. Nick was, well, being Nick, somehow keeping his anger in check and keeping his sense of humor active. Probably for her sake, Judy thought. "Guess you finally get to remodel the place," he had told her with a smile.

She looked at her mate, who, after the conference call, had gone over to chat with members of the ZIA's in-house reaction team that had 'greeted' them in the lobby. He caught her glance and mouthed _'You know I love you.'_

 _'My fox,'_ she mouthed back. He winked.

Matilda had explained to Judy the difficulties they now faced. The Zootopia Field Office was an independent section of the ZIA and completely self-contained, but very small. They acted under the direct purview of the Mayor and the Common Intelligence Committee, drawing resources from the other ZIA branches, Intelligence, Operations, Science and Technology, and Administration, as needed. Their core members, permanently assigned to the Field Office, underwent regular vetting through polygraph tests and other means to ensure that the integrity of the division was above reproach.

But now, Skye, co-Director of the Field Office, was on the run after messaging the ZIA's Operations branch, located in Plainsville, had gone rogue. The vixen had told Judy she was going to see the Operations Director, which Judy had relayed to Jack, which meant Skye's message could have many interpretations: Was the Director involved? Just a few agents? The whole division? The rest of the Agency? So, Matilda had said, they were alone. They had to assume the worst, that the whole Agency was compromised.

When Jack informed the Mayor of the situation, even though they had been unable to detect any unusual activity from Plainsville or anywhere else, the Mayor had wanted to issue a lockdown to ZIA just to be sure. That would keep the different branches isolated from each other under strict ZBI supervision. Jack wanted the Mayor to wait until they could bring in Skye. Another attempt of trying to force an adversary into a mistake.

The Mayor approved Jack's request, even going a step further to authorize full, independent action to investigate and 'clean up house', as the Mayor had put it, but be ready to answer to the Common Intelligence Committee at the conclusion of things. Judy was impressed at both how easy Jack took on such responsibility and how such authority did not go to his head in the least. She thought he was someone she could respect.

Now she saw the stripe-faced buck motioning her to follow him, and Matilda was talking to Nick while pointing to Jack. Nick looked at his mate and shrugged, then went along with Matilda after the buck. Judy hurried to catch up to them and took Nick's paw as they entered Jack's office. Matilda closed the door behind them.

Jack was pacing in front of his desk, paws behind his back.

"There are exactly eight mammals I trust right now," he said. "Three are in this room, four are on their way back from the explosion, and the last one is on the run in Plainsville."

"So, that's why you pushed the Chief into letting us go get her?" Nick asked.

"Yes," he explained. "Becaue, right now, Skye will only trust three. I cannot leave at this time, so that leaves you and your mate to go and fetch her."

"You told the Chief we would be part of a team," reminded Judy.

"And so you shall," Jack said. "I will send Kurt and Blackwell with you for security, but you will have to handle the extraction yourselves. Skye will not approach anyone else. You have the training for it, I am told."

"Never used it," Nick said with a little concern.

"Not to worry," Jack said with a smile. "We have training facilities in the building. Might as well take in a short refresher; you cannot leave until dark, anyway."

"We have gear your size in the armory," Matilda told the ZPD officers, then shrugged at their surprised looks. "Have to plan for any contingency when Jack is in town," she explained, opening the door. "Let's get you fitted before Kurt and his team get back."

As they closed the door behind them, Jack called after them. "You do like boats, I hope"

* * *

 _2:10 PM_

The injured raccoons were glad to have ZPD officers standing guard outside the room. Likely their presence was the only reason the two were still alive, going by the looks of the enormous white wolf that was their boss. He was so angry he paced on all fours between the two beds.

"Do you realize what you have done?" he snarled in Baratean. "You fools! Do you think them so stupid they cannot put simple facts together?"

"There's no proof—" the senior raccoon said.

"Proof!" The wolf leaped at the raccoon, his sharp teeth not a whisker's width from the terrified underling's nose. "You think this is about proof?"

"Sir," said the other raccoon, "the bomb…" Suddenly, the junior agent was facing those same sharp teeth.

"Was perfect!" the wolf growled in his face. "Until you bungling whelps mucked it up crying Diplomatic Immunity! Now they know the Embassy is involved!"

"All they know is two diplomats were viciously atta—" protested the senior raccoon, amazed at how quickly the wolf's teeth were back at his nose.

"And _you_ are the senior agent?" came the wolf's furious question through gritted teeth. "Did it ever cross your miniscule brain to just file a simple police report?"

"But, the ra-a-bbit…" blurted the junior agent, with the wolf instantly on his bed, jaws salivating over his face and looking down with merciless feral eyes.

"Had _nothing_ but unfounded suspicions until. You. Opened. Your. Mouth," he growled. "I cannot believe they sent me such incompetent scat piles for this critical operation!"

"We're not the ones who lost—" started the senior agent, but his courage vanished when the wolf turned to glare at him.

"You wish to blame me, prey?" the wolf asked ominously, slinking down from the junior raccoon's bed and stalking over to the senior.

"I am not prey!" the raccoon burbled indignantly through his bandaged muzzle, eyes defiant. The wolf slowly climbed over him, foaming at the mouth.

"You are to me," the wolf rumbled into the raccoon's ear, then, quick as lightning, bit off a sizable part of it. The bandage on the raccoon's muzzle kept the mammal's scream from being more than a pitiful whine. The wolf stared down at the keening raccoon and swallowed the morsel, then licked his lips clean. "But you do show some spirit," he said, calming down. "Next time you are disciplined, it will be your throat that is missing a piece."

The wolf came down from the bed, standing up slowly and breathing forcefully slow. He walked to the door and put on his long, cowhide jacket. "You are to remain silent," he said softly, opening the door. He looked over at the bleeding raccoon. "If I have to come back," he warned with a menacing show of teeth, "there won't be enough of you left to fill a sandwich bag." He turned and walked out of the room, pushing right past a nurse, a cow at that, who recoiled in disgust at the predator's outer garb. The ZPD officers at the door needed all their training to keep from tazing the wolf and dragging him in to the station.

The nurse heard the whimpering raccoon and rushed inside the room. "What happened in here!" she yelled, running over to tend the wounded ear. The ZPD officers peeked into the room, saw the bleeding raccoon, and automatically started after the wolf only to stop dead in their tracks.

The white wolf stood defiantly before them holding up a Zootopia State Department ID.

"Diplomatic Immunity," he sneered, then turned and left, his scandalous jacket billowing out behind him.

"Not if I catch you walking alone in the street," mumbled one of the officers, a tiger, before going back to his post and calling in the incident.

* * *

 _3:00 PM_

Skye had immediately changed her outfit in a convenience store bathroom and now walked casually down the busy street in a bright flower-print dress, with a wide-brimmed hat and sun glasses. She counted herself lucky; in another month, her winter coat would start to show, and there was no way a fox could hope to blend in with the locals here covered with snow-white fur.

Years of habit took over the vixen's movements. Stopping at store windows to gawk at trinkets that were really opportunities to see if anyone followed her, suddenly going in to some shops just to speak to a clerk and make anyone following wonder if the store employee was an accomplice, doing the same with passing strangers—male of course, who wouldn't object to speaking to an attractive female. And habits such as these had kept her alive through many worse ordeals.

Her actions eventually forced a mammal to give themselves away. She was being pursued on foot from an extreme distance, definitely by someone very skilled. Skye had yet to catch a full glance of whom it might be but was about to remedy that, having just spotted a female coyote with an outfit similar to hers turning down a pedestrian side street.

Skye went the same way and took shelter in a store's recessed doorway just around the corner, taking off her hat and fanning herself with it. The hat was reversible, so she let the fanning motions turn it inside-out and put it on again, removed her sunglasses, reached into her bag for her tazer, and waited. Within a minute the mammal stalking her rounded the corner walking innocently fast among the afternoon shoppers but looking directly at the coyote, now standing at a shop window at the other end of the block, far longer than was necessary.

Skye fought back tears. No time for those as she slipped behind her pursuer and pressed the handle of her tazer into the alpaca's back, injecting her long-time friend with the strong sedative and catching her as she fell unconscious to the ground.

"Help!" Skye yelled, "She just collapsed! Someone call an ambulance!" As mammals began gathering around the fallen alpaca to help, effectively blocking the street, Skye threaded her way carefully away from the crowd. She only had a few hours to get to the pick-up point, and it was a long way to the coast.

The city of Plainsville was at an ideal location for the heavy industries that made up the lifeblood of the country, straddling the junction of the Grand Plains and Westerlong rivers. The Westerlong was a crucial inland waterway, deep and navigable to heavy traffic all the way to the Western Escarpment, and the Grand Plains River allowed direct access to the ocean from as far away as Long Grass, two hundred miles north of the city.

Skye caught a city bus to the harbor, where she could board a riverboat for the four-hour trip to the coast. If all went well, Jack would be there waiting for her and she could be back safe in Zootopia before midnight. The bus passed by the street where she had tranquilized Lila, and there were now paramedics with a nearby ambulance tending to the alpaca. Skye looked ahead rather than out the window as the other passengers did, a single tear rolling down her cheek while she struggled to keep her emotions in check.

The betrayal by her friend stung far deeper than she wanted to admit. Skye had been to the births of both Lila's kits—Lila had even wanted Skye to be their guardian in case the unthinkable happened to the alpaca and her husband! How could this be happening now? And Arthur. He was one of the most powerful mammals on the continent and independently wealthy, to boot—what more could he want? Candace ignored his occasional flings. Skye laughed. Arthur's impressive wife had even been curious enough to ask Skye directly why she had refused his advances before, so the grey fox was not lacking physical affection either. Nothing made sense.

She missed Jack.

Tears rolled down her face unimpeded. Why had she left by herself this morning? She should have coordinated with Jack, maybe even come with him, and perhaps she would not be on the run, afraid for her life. He would say something quirky or outrageous just to cheer her up. She laughed, thinking of some of the things he would say, but that made the pit of her stomach shrivel up and she soon started crying again.

A matronly jackrabbit doe who had somehow sat down next to Skye completely unnoticed took the vixen's paw into hers and patted it gently, startling Skye out of her thoughts.

"Is it your first?" she doe asked.

Almost in a panic, Skye swallowed hard and cautiously reached into her bag with her free paw to grab her tazer. But something about the question threw her into a loop. "My first?" she asked in return.

"Oh, my," the doe said. "After 205 of my own, dear, you get to know the signs." Skye looked at her, completely confused. "Million-mile stare," the doe went on, "laughing and crying and back again with no rhyme or reason, not seeing mammals sitting right next to you… Are you throwing up yet? Not everyone does, you know. Me? I was lucky to get an hour between bouts for the first two weeks. Don't know much about foxes, though. But you sure are a pretty thing, dear. It's all gonna be fine, don't you worry. I'm sure the lucky father'll be tickled pink!"

Skye blinked and shook her head.

 _Father?_

* * *

 ** _Author's Note: Well, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to get the next installment in soon._**

 ** _As always, I hope to hear from you and get your opinions._**

 ** _Until next time, thanks for reading!_**


	12. Picking Up

**Enjoy** :).

* * *

 _7:03 PM_

The hum of the engine was hypnotic, Nick thought, standing at the controls with a firm grip on the steering wheel. He had piloted boats before, but never something like this. This was not a boat. This was a missile riding the waters, lightning crossing the ocean, a meteor… tapping his shoulder. He looked around and saw his mate.

"I said," yelled Judy, trying to be heard over the wind, "Do you want some coffee?"

"Arrrgh, matey!" he yelled back in his best Pirate Captain voice. "That would put some wind in me sails!" Judy handed him a plastic mug steaming with coffee, then snuggled under his arm, careful not to jostle the steering wheel. "Aye, matey," Nick drawled, "Wind in me face, coffee in me hand, wench in me arms! Life is worth living!" He sipped his coffee. "What else could a Pirate want?"

"Well," Judy shouted, "you could close the window. My ears hurt."

"Wot? And loose ye a third of what makes life worth a living?"

"I'll give you a kiss," she proposed. Nick looked down skeptically at the bunny. "French kiss," she added slyly. Nick hung his head down in defeat and reached over to pull the window shut, filling the cabin with silence.

"Egad," he lamented. "The Valiant Captain Fox, laid low by the wiles of a wench." He looked down to his mate again. "Now, pay up, wench."

She did, taking her time to do a proper job. Nick sighed contentedly. "Arrrgh, matey!" he shouted. "Coffee in me hand, wench in me arms! Life is worth living!"

"So, Captain Fox," Judy asked, "how much longer till we get there?"

Nick studied the GPS display. "Four hours to be safe," he told her. "Three without leaving any reserves; two and a half, and we need to recharge the fuel cells to make it back."

"Their plan was to meet ten minutes ago," she reminded him. "She's been alone, on the run, all day, Nick, and it's going to take us some time to meet up, anyway. Let's make it two and a half; Kurt and Blackwell can recharge while we find her."

"You're the boss," he said, pushing the throttle up to maximum. The boat surged forward with a satisfying purr.

"I'm the boss?" Judy teased. "You're the Valiant Captain Fox!"

"Aye, matey!" Nick laughed. "But you be the Dread Admiral Long Ears!"

Judy stood on her toes and gave him a kiss. "I'll go tell the guys," she said.

No sooner had she left the cabin, Nick reached over and pushed the window open, letting out an excited howl into the rushing wind as the long, narrow boat skimmed over the waves, bouncing lightly on the calm sea with no other sea traffic for miles according to the radar. Weather predictions said clear skies for the entire evening, but Nick did not trust weather-mammals very much, firmly believing winning the lottery had better odds than the weather prediction being correct.

Judy came back in shortly and straightaway closed the window. "I paid for that window being closed," she said tartly.

"That contract expired when you abandoned your post in the cabin," he retorted. "Care to renegotiate?"

Judy smiled and gave him a long kiss. "Sly fox," she said, snuggling back under his arm.

"Arrrgh, me bunny," he said.

Conditions would not be ideal for a covert operation. The full moon was just waking up and hanging low behind them, casting long shadows and highlighting enormous jellyfish drifting beneath the waters.

"Won't be needing the flashlights," Nick said, sourly.

"We're just tourists, remember?" Judy said.

"Right." Nick said, clapping his paw to his head. "How could I forget, going a hundred miles-an-hour in this night-camouflaged, carbon-fiber, jammer-equipped, Kevlar-armored blockade runner?" He looked to his bunny. "Oh, yeah. It must be the machine guns on the sides of the boat."

"There aren't any machine guns," she said with a sigh. He gave her his 'wanna-bet' smile. Without really wanting to, Judy peeked over her shoulder. "Cheese and crackers!" she yelled, catching sight of two belt-loaded rotary miniguns, one mounted on each side of the boat's rear deck. She stormed out of the cabin. "KURT!"

Nick reached over and pushed the window open, howling into the rushing wind.

After a few minutes Judy came back in to the cabin, again going straight to close the window.

"What _is_ it with windows?" she wondered aloud.

"Said it before, Carrots," he told her offhandedly. "It's a canine thing."

"Whatever," she said, going back under his arm. "What a beautiful night," she breathed contentedly.

Nick sighed. "Especially good for the enemy to see and shoot you in," he said dreamily.

"I was thinking more about gazing over the calm water, bathed in romantic moonlight, snuggling close to your mate…"

"And then getting shot at?"

Judy pinched him. "You big oaf," she said. "When was the last time you took me on a moonlight _anything?_ "

"Hey," he complained. "We went on a walk just the other day!"

"You mean, when the moon was barely a sliver in the sky you thought was an airship?"

"Moonlight is moonlight," he said, settling the matter.

"We were on patrol, Slick."

"Ohhh, I see," he accused, "Now _you_ won't even let me enjoy a romantic, moonlit stroll with my mate when we're on duty?"

Judy blinked. "Oh, you're good, Slick."

"Yeah," he admitted. "I especially liked how I made it all your fault."

"Har, har. How long to get there?"

"Just two more hours till we get shot at," he said. "I could really use some more coffee, Fluff. Would you mind?"

"Might take a while," she warned. "I'll have to make more."

"I'll be here," he told her. "Driving us all into mortal danger."

"That's the spirit!" she said, pumping her fist and leaving the cabin.

Nick reached over and pushed the window open, howling into the rushing wind.

When Judy eventually came back with two cups of coffee, she noticed the closed window. She walked up to Nick, offering him his cup.

"You opened the window, didn't you?" she said.

"What window?" he asked, innocently.

"Your face is covered in salt-spray," she pointed out.

"You're imagining things," he scoffed, looking down at his mate. "I read somewhere that happens when bunnies get older." A drop of sea water rolled down into his eye, and he struggled hard not to blink.

"Your eye's twitching," Judy noted matter-of-factly.

"What eye?"

Judy's ear wiped the tod's twitching eye.

"Oh, thank you," he told her, relieved, and took the offered cup. "That really stung."

"Silly fox."

"Clever bunny."

"Are you getting tired?" she asked after a few minutes.

"No chair," he pointed out.

"I could spell you," she offered. He snickered.

"I'm the only licensed boater," he said, importantly. "Do you even _know_ how complicated it is to pilot a boat?"

Judy looked at the controls. "Let's see," she said, taking inventory. "No brakes… no clutch…no gear shift…no turn signals…no mirrors…no headlights…hmm…not even a stereo. But…wait…a steering wheel, a speed select lever…oh, and a windshield wiper switch," she added. "How hard could it be?" Nick mumbled something. "What was that, dear?"

"I said, 'you forgot the GPS and start button.'"

"Ohhh," she said, nodding in her best wide-eyed, dumb bunny look. "Yeah, I can see how that would be hard."

"And the compass," he added, sullenly. "Can't forget the compass. That's very critical."

"Do you want my help, or not?"

"Maybe on a trial basis," he said, thoughtfully. "You know, just in case we need another pilot."

"I can see how that would be useful," she said. "Move over." She bumped him out of the way with her hips.

"You're sure you can see OK?" he said. "I could get you a stool."

"Har, har," she told him, then smiled wide, getting a sense of the boat. "This is fun, Nick! Maybe I should open the window. You know, to feel the wind in my face."

"Nah," he said. "Your ears just flap around making farting sounds." He skillfully dodged her half-hearted kick.

"We'll take thirty-minute shifts," Judy said. "That way you get the last leg; I'm sure I can do this in open water, but I doubt I can park."

Nick wisely did not make any 'parking' wisecracks.

* * *

 _7:30 PM_

The Baratean embassy was dark to all outward appearances, but in the levels below ground, the mammals of the Intelligence staff were busy at work under the watchful gaze of the white wolf. The announcement at the ZPD news conference of the accidental deaths of Judy and Nick WildeHopps had taken some of the strain off the wolf. He had dodged a bullet with their mistake, but now needed to capitalize on his good fortune.

The sabotage team had not found the package in the officer's home, and the raccoon surveillance team had not spotted the police couple carrying it about. That meant it was still in play. The wolf had been sure the officers had appropriated it after he'd spent weeks arranging to have the ZPD evidence room searched and finding nothing there. Surveillance cameras at the safe house where he had stored the package captured the break-in by some unknown mammal, followed by the ZPD couple responding to the silent alarm. The burglar had slipped away, leaving the package untouched. But the package was no longer visible after the ZPD couple stopped in front of it, momentarily blocking the camera, and then ran off in pursuit of the burglar.

So now the wolf had his staff reviewing _all_ the footage from _all_ the cameras, even the external ones, down to the pixel level, looking for any tampering that they might have overlooked in their first attempt. The contact who had given them the package had disappeared, and the mammals he had been certain had taken it were dead. He was running out of time; his superiors were getting impatient.

* * *

 _7:33 PM_

Jack was nervous, though he would never allow anyone to see it, and sat with his rear paws resting on his desk, not really listening to the classical music playing on his phone. Matilda was at her own desk, unwilling to leave at least until they knew Skye was on the boat, and kept herself busy typing up fiscal reports. Ramstein and Leone, the two members of Kurt's team who had remained behind, sat near Matilda, casually playing fantasy pawball, with concealed weapons loaded and within reach. Other mammals also carried weapons, like the response teams who gave them 24-hour security. Unlike Ramstein and Leone's, however, their weapons were not lethal. Jack's personal weapon lay in his top drawer, also loaded with lethal ammunition; he was not one to take chances—not when he didn't need to.

He wished again his contingency plan called for communications between Skye and himself, but that was too late to change now. Maybe after she returned, they should rethink their strategies. Being unable to communicate with his partner for an extended period during a major crisis did not seem such a clever idea anymore, regardless of the extra layer of security it afforded. They were both skilled enough to compensate for the extra risk, and right now he needed Cynthia's clever mind and steady temperament. The WildeHopps had proven themselves extremely resourceful and markedly above average on the training course, but they were still an unknown quantity to him and he had come to rely heavily on Skye over the years.

 _Has it been eleven, no, twelve years, already?_ he pondered. Twelve years since she had rescued an idealistic, naïve hare from the whirlwind that had ripped his entire world apart in one bloody night that had changed the fate of an entire nation. And now that Skye needed his help in return, all he could do was send an unfortunate collection of novices and amateurs to do the job he owed her to do himself.

 _Bloody hell._

* * *

 _7:45 PM_

One paw absently clasping her dress and the other one shakily holding the plastic wand of a _Vixen's First Sign_ pregnancy test, Skye wanted to scream in frustration under the meager light of the public restroom. Two other wands lay discarded in the waste basket next to the toilet, their tips annoyingly neither blue nor red, and now this third one looked as if it would end up the same shade of 'try again.'

In her mind, the vixen knew taking the test was pointless; she hadn't been with a fox in several months. But the doe's words had nevertheless set Skye to wondering if there could be some truth to them. She _had_ been overly emotional, distracted and…strange…for the last couple of weeks, and the doe's explanation filled in many of the squares she needed to check.

 _'So, why won't this flea-bitten stick give me an answer either way?'_ she thought. She felt tears building up and fiercely suppressed them, throwing the spent wand into the trash to join its equally indecisive brothers.

She cleaned herself up and straightened her clothes, then made her way back to where she had bought the kits, the only open pharmacy in the scenic folk village on the Grand Plains River Delta. There were many pedestrians wandering about, mostly larger plains mammals visiting the seashore village during the modestly cooler fall season, but apparently they were all healthy as the pharmacy was devoid of customers. The grandfatherly ox who owned the store looked up in surprise when Skye came in.

"Well, well, miss," he greeted her. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

"Do you have any more test kits?" Skye asked. "The other ones didn't work."

"Or, they didn't give the answer you wanted?" the ox asked in turn, sympathetically.

"I would settle for _any_ answer right now," she told him, some of her frustration bleeding through. "They just never changed color."

"Hmm," the pharmacist said, rubbing his ample chin. "That does happen sometimes, but I never seen it more than once to a box—it could be a bad batch." He shook his head. "Problem is, they all came from the same box, and it's the only box I have—for vixens, that is. Got plenty for otters, antelope, rabbits and prairie dogs," he told her. It was too much.

"So, w-what am I s-supposed to d-do now?" she sobbed, hating herself for losing control.

"Well, now," he said kindly, "I'm just your friendly neighborhood pharmacist. Wouldn't it be best if you talked about that with the father?"

"B-but I don't know w-who the father could even b-be!" she cried, confusion, frustration and even sadness coming through. The ox gave a sigh, then nodded in sympathy.

"Well, I'm not your judge, pretty miss," he said softly. He went into the medicine room and came back with a small plastic blister-pack holding two yellow capsules. Looking around to make sure they were still alone, he came out from behind the counter and pressed the package into Skye's paw. "A wise mammal knows if she wants or is even ready for kits," he told her. "No use ruining lives or bringing more misery into the world."

"I-I don't understand," Skye said, looking from the pills to the ox.

"You have a few days," he told her. "If you still think you can't be a mother, swallow those."

Her eyes widened. "I-I would never…" she protested, scandalized.

"And that makes my heart soar with happiness to hear," he said truthfully, patting her paw. "But take your time, miss; they give you the power to choose. So, tonight, you don't need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Tomorrow, or the next day, is soon enough for that."

Tears in her eyes, Skye gave the old ox a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, then silently turned and left, placing the capsules into her bag. Up the street she saw PPD officers politely questioning pedestrians while showing them something Skye was sure to be a picture of herself. Down the other way, police officers were going from shop to shop. Not good.

She had to make it to the pick-up point soon; she was already late, and their plan only had an hour's margin; after that Jack would assume she was either dead or captured, and the vixen had no illusions she could make it safely back to Zootopia on her own with Arthur coming after her. Especially not if he had now co-opted the PPD to join the pursuit.

An antelope speaking to the police officers up the street pointed her way and Skye quickly ducked around a corner, walking as quickly as she could without attracting notice. Too late. Her fox ears picked up the high-pitched sound of a police whistle, soon joined by another, then another, all of them getting closer. The vixen adjusted the straps of her bag until the bag fit like a backpack, then gracefully launched herself down the street on all fours, bolting down the crowded boulevard with amazing speed, weaving with ease through the milling tourists.

Soon the sound of police whistles faded behind her and Skye slowed to a trot, finding herself alone at a construction site on the outskirts of the village, with only two hundred yards across open grass to the tree-line where the pick-up point was. Feelings of relief bloomed but were short-lived; with a droning buzz overhead, the lumbering form of an airship in PPD colors drifted above her towards the woods, with searchlights flashing on to comb the open field in every direction. The behemoth came to a halt, hovering halfway to the trees, while behind her, police whistles grew louder once more.

Spotting a deep, open trench leading into the woods with a hippo-sized sewer pipe in it, Skye jumped down into the channel and rolled in the sandy mud at the bottom. Completely covered in smelly, gooey muck, she crawled on her belly towards the trees, pressing herself tightly against the concrete pipe. Soon she was directly below the airship, but the sweeping lights didn't leave her a clear passage, so she lay still, waiting for the crew to hopefully get bored and move on.

Behind her, the police whistles went silent and the vixen glanced back towards the village. Outlined against the evening lights, she saw mammals walking along the trench, shining flashlights down into the ditch, meticulously making their way closer.

* * *

 _9:30 PM_

Nick and Judy strolled paw-in-paw down the white, sandy beach, just another pair of tourists enjoying the warm, moonlit night. They did draw a fair number of stares, but mixed-species couples were not the taboo they were when Nick and Judy first began dating just a few years ago. What still made the ZPD couple unique, however, was their predator-prey combination. That was still hard for many to swallow. Bison-llama, okay; leopard-wolf, why not? Elephant-giraffe? Intriguing. But fox-rabbit? Pure insanity!

They had long since learned to ignore the stares—haters _will_ hate, after all. Nick did not even waste his breath on them anymore; they were not worth the effort. He loved Judy; she loved him. Anybody doesn't like it—who cares? She was _his_ bunny. He was _her_ fox. No mammal's bigotry would ever change that.

Nick looked down to his mate, suddenly feeling protective. She sensed his tension and looked up with those lovely lavender eyes.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"Feeling tired of the prejudice," he said. "I don't like some of the looks we're getting."

"Never let them see that they get to you," she said. "Remember?" To emphasize her point, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a deep kiss. After several moments, and several mammals turning away in prejudiced disgust, she let him go and winked.

"Bunny provocateur," Nick whispered.

"Tasty fox," she returned.

"Have you noticed how many police officers are wandering about," he whispered into her ear.

"Guess you haven't heard the airships buzzing about," she commented.

"Fox ears are not so good for low-pitched sounds," he told her humbly. "But I did see them with my super-duper-see-everything-in-the-night fox eyes! About half a mile up the beach, closer to the town; just hovering in place." He frowned. "Close to the pick-up point."

"No search lights?" Judy wondered.

"Maybe FLIR?" Nick also wondered, referring to the standard police night-vision equipment. A uniformed PPD lion approached them.

"Good evening," the officer said pleasantly. "I hope you are enjoying this warm, autumn night."

"We sure are, officer," Nick said. "How may we help?"

The lion pulled out a smartphone and brought up a picture of Skye. "Have you seen this mammal tonight?"

Nick whistled. "She's a looker," he said. Judy elbowed him. "Oof—No. No, we haven't seen her."

"Is she missing?" the doe asked with concern.

"She left the hospital," the lion said. "She is very sick: delusional and possibly contagious. We have reason to believe she will come to the beach, and we are asking everyone to stay away from her. If you do see her, do not go near; she's already assaulted two mammals in Plainsville, earlier today. Just contact the PPD as soon as you can."

"Wow," Nick said. "And such a good looking vix—oof," Judy's elbow came away from his stomach.

"We will, officer," she said politely. "I don't need _him_ 'going near' any other females." She grabbed Nick by the shirt and dragged him away, leaving the lion behind them shaking his head in bewilderment at how pred and prey could make a couple.

"I wonder if we should call this in," Judy said.

"No calls until we're back at sea," Nick reminded her. "Those were the rules."

"How long until the fuel cells are charged?" Judy asked.

"Oh, about an hour," he told her, smiling. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"Yeah," she said with a large grin. "We need a distraction."

"I'm faster on the sand, Fluff. You stay and find her while I go play some music."

Paw-in-paw, they set out towards the village. When the airships came in sight, eerily visible in the moonlight, Judy gave Nick a short kiss and sat on the warm sands.

"See ya back at the boat," Nick told her, continuing up the beach. Judy waved bye to him, then lay down to wait.

Nick made good time to the village and its many beach-side restaurants and bars. He walked by the establishments with feigned interest, noticing the crowd was thinning out as the hour got later, which suited him just fine. About half a mile past the town the only mammals around were couples laying together on beach blankets, enjoying each other more than the romantic, moonlit beach, and the fewer the amount of clothes, the more distracted they were.

The tod ventured into the trees a good distance away from anyone, putting his excellent night vision to use. He came to a small clearing and there he took out a small bundle of plastic explosives with an attached timer from his fanny-pack, set the timer for twenty minutes, and buried the whole thing in the sand. Stealthily navigating through the woods, he eventually made it back onto the sandy beach and casually strolled towards the village. He stopped in one of the beachfront bars and managed to finish a club soda before the explosion shattered the peaceful night, throwing everyone into panicked confusion.

Everyone, that is, except Judy. Before the explosion had died down, she was on her feet, stumbling along in the general direction the crowd was going, but with deliberate clumsiness and drifting towards the trees. She could hear the airships above spin up their engines and head towards Nick's distraction while, on the beach, PPD officers rushed the same way on foot. Soon she was crouching down among the trees and went into full listening mode, ears perked up and scanning in every direction.

A good ten minutes later, she caught the faint hint of a sound and steered her sensitive ears to pinpoint it. Then, having a direction, she used a trick she had learned as a kit and lay her ears parallel to the ground facing forward, looking like a grey letter T in the undergrowth. Now she could tell how far the sound was, and it was close. Not long after, and the sound came to an abrupt halt fifteen yards in front of her.

"Never let them see that they get to you," Judy called out.

"Judy?" came Skye's trembling voice from the bushes. "Judy, is that you?" It was dark enough in the trees that Judy's poor night vision only gave her a view of the vixen's pupils shining ahead of her. Limping towards the doe, Skye staggered her way from tree to tree, no longer caring about stealth and making Judy flinch at the racket. Though the rabbit could barely see her, she could definitely smell her.

"We need to get you out of here," Judy said. "It's a long walk. Can you make it?"

Without a word, the vixen fell to her knees in front of the rabbit and caught her in a fierce hug, sobbing uncontrollably. Ignoring the stench, Judy hugged her back, wondering what ordeal had brought the vixen to this state. Minutes passed before Skye breathed easily again.

"We need to go, Skye," Judy said. "They won't be fooled much longer." Skye nodded and stood up.

"Thank you for coming," she said. "I thought…"

"Well," Judy said, "that's all over. Now, let's get you out of here."

"Where's Jack?" Skye asked curiously.

"It's been a long day," Judy said urgently, getting conscious of the time. "Let's get you to the boat first."

* * *

 _11:00 PM_

Kurt had finished recharging the fuel cells and stood aft on the boat, peering into the woods with his keen night vision. The speed boat lay anchored nose-out in a small cove below a rocky overhang hidden from above by thick vegetation. Blackwell stood vigilantly with his paws on a minigun, taking turns watching the approach from the sea and scanning the tree line. They had set a trip wire to warn of mammals approaching from the woods but were taking no chances.

"Do you smell that?" asked the bobcat.

"Not funny, dude," Blackwell, a skunk, said, then picked up the smell, too. "Yeah, I do." He readied the minigun and pointed it towards the trees.

"Try everything," called out Judy's voice from the trees.

"Birds don't just fly," Kurt called back.

Judy came out of the woods propping up the stumbling Skye. As they neared the water, the vixen threw herself into the surf and began scrubbing the muck off herself with sand. Feeling, no, smelling like it was a good idea, Judy did the same. Kurt went down into the cabin and came out with a bar of soap, some towels and a duffle bag.

"Better than nothing," he called out, tossing Judy the soap bar. "We'll be inside if you need anything."

Judy and Skye stripped off their ruined clothes and scrubbed each other clean with the soap. When they felt as clean as they could get, they went up into the boat and made use of the towels laying atop the duffle bag.

"We brought some clothes for you," Judy said to the vixen, digging into the duffle bag. She pulled out some warmup clothes she had brought for herself from the Field Office's supply room and turned the bag towards Skye.

"Aren't those from the Field Office?" Skye asked, taking her own clothes from the bag.

"They sure are," Judy said with a sigh. "And they're the only clothes I have." Skye looked at her in confusion. Judy brought Skye up to speed with the day's events in Zootopia while they dressed.

"That's horrible," Skye said when Judy finished. "What did you two get yourselves into?"

"MOVE! MOVE!" came Nick's frantic voice from the trees. Kurt and Blackwell rushed to the miniguns in time to catch sight of the tod sprinting on all fours and leap right into the boat from the beach. Nick shot into the control room and the engines sprang to life. Behind the trees, in the distance, one of the trip line booby traps went off. The boat lurched forward, knocking Skye and Judy off their feet.

They were under orders not to fire unless fired upon, but the miniguns were spinning and ready for that eventuality. Lights twinkled among the trees, soon becoming steady and revealing several mammals in black tactical gear spilling onto the beach. Their chests displayed _ZIA_ in reflective white lettering.

Flashes from small arms fire let the bobcat and skunk know the interlopers' intentions. After one bullet ricocheted off the hull near Blackwell, Kurt shook his head in annoyance.

"Let's see if they can dance," he said to the skunk. Both miniguns opened fire, lighting up the night with ten-foot tongues of flame shooting out from the rotating barrels. Skye and Judy covered their ears from the boat-shaking buzz of the cannons and the clamor of streaming ammunition belts. Spent shell casings flew in an oddly beautiful display, sparkling in the deadly light while making graceful arcs into the water.

On the shore, every mammal frantically tossed away their flashlight and dove for cover, all thoughts but survival forgotten in their obvious mismatch with the fleeing boat.

When they were out of small arms range, Kurt and Blackwell ceased firing. The minigun barrels glowed a dull red from their use. The bobcat and skunk gave each other a high five.

"I told you we had machine guns!" came Nick's voice from the control cabin.

* * *

 **Author's Note: It took a little longer than expected, but there it is.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd love to hear any comments you might have.**

 **Until the next chapter!**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	13. Inner Workings

**Author's Note: Here is the next installment. Enjoy** **?**

* * *

 _11:50 PM_

Hands on the steering wheel, Nick kept glancing down at his mate standing next to him, a smug look plastered on his face. Judy avoided his gaze and tried to ignore him as best she could. It wasn't working.

"Watch where you're going," she said, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Always do," came his self-satisfied reply. "Even when I'm being shot at."

"You're not going to let it drop, are you?"

He shook his head. "Sets a bad precedent," he told her with mock sorrow, then smiled. "You could just come out and say it."

"OK," she harrumphed. "You win: You were right; I did not consider the ZIA would be there looking for us. Happy now?"

Nick clicked his tongue. "Nope."

"OK…We got shot at—just like you said we would."

"Mmm-mmm," Nick said, shaking his head.

Judy sighed, thinking to herself, _'might as well get it over with.'_

"You're _such_ an _incredibly_ athletic male," she drawled, "you can _easily_ outrun _any_ mammal and make it from the beach to the boat in a _single_ bound."

Nick grinned wider. "Just…" he prompted. Judy's head slumped forward, ears hanging limply at her sides.

"Just like you said you could," she murmured, then looked at him. "So. What do you want? A candy bar?"

 _'_ _Rabbit_ , _'_ he mouthed, licking his chops. Judy couldn't help but smile.

"That could be arranged," she said. Nick's tail wagged.

A sudden yelp from below told them Blackwell, a trained medic, had set Skye's dislocated knee. That she had managed to walk at all, let alone stumble along for two miles, made Judy's head spin. Skye had told her it was not the first, or even second time, she had suffered that particular injury. Still, Judy was impressed.

A few minutes later, Kurt came into the cabin carrying three sets of sleeping mats, inflatable pillows, and blankets. He set them on the floor.

"Hope you can sleep on those," the bobcat said.

"What about you and Blackwell?" Judy asked.

"Thermal sleeping bags out back," he said confidently. "We've done this before—well, in training, at least." He went out to the aft deck, where he and Blackwell would be taking shifts with their good-ol' Eyeball Mark 1 surveillance equipment crewing the machine guns. The boat was running without active sensors, like radar, to avoid detection.

The team had sent the Field Office the _mission accomplished_ signal right after the firefight with the ZIA strike force, and there were no further communications planned. At their current speed, they would arrive at their destination in nine hours; Judy would take turns piloting the boat with Nick since Skye, also a licensed boater and the one they originally thought would help, was unable to stand for more than a few moments. Judy had teased her mate about those plans, but the sly tod shrugged it off, saying the only reason he had let the bunny try her hand at piloting the boat earlier was because he had a feeling Skye would be unable to co-pilot with him.

 _'_ _Sure'_ , Judy thought, going about arranging the bedding and inflating pillows.

Skye groggily limped in, half-carried by Blackwell, and took the prepared spot furthest from the controls, curling under the blanket and falling instantly asleep.

"Gave her some painkillers," the skunk told them. "They should let her sleep _all_ night."

"How bad is she?" Judy wanted to know.

"She's still in shock," Blackwell said. "She said she was hiding in a ditch next to a sewer pipe with nowhere to go, so when they started searching along the trench, she had to dig fast to get out of sight under the pipe. That's how she popped her knee. Luckily, the pipe had a cracked seam she could stick her head into and wait them out, although how she could stand to breathe in there…for two hours?" The skunk shook his head. "Makes _me_ shudder."

"Get her to eat anything?" Nick asked.

"Couldn't even keep down a protein bar," Blackwell reported. "Not surprising, though, considering the circumstances. Pumped her full of anti-biotics, anti-parasitics and plenty of water. She should be OK in the morning; if not, she's going to need a hospital. Med-kit doesn't have anything more sophisticated."

"Excellent job, Blackwell," Judy complimented him, then smiled. "I hope you have a really boring night."

The skunk chuckled. "Yeah. We could all use one of those right now," he said and went out to join Kurt.

* * *

 _11:57 PM_

Kataiahs lay in his bed, paws behind his head, staring absently in the dark at the ceiling. One good thing about age, he knew, was it taught you to be patient. If not for that, then on days like today, it would be easy to give up with all the frustration. But the WildeHopps had finally been spotted, if not where or when he had expected. _Never too old to be surprised_ , he thought.

He considered the truth of that last thought again as his bedroom door silently opened and closed, bringing Trina's cinnamon-frostberry scent over to him, followed closely by the doe burrowing under the covers to snuggle next to him with her back against his chest.

"I-I hope you don't mind, sir," she whispered.

"I _never_ mind the company of a beautiful lady," he told her. The bunny sighed.

"About this morning, sir," she said.

"Yes?"

"Why…I mean…you didn't…well…"

The lynx chuckled softly. "Are you wondering why I didn't 'take advantage' of you?" he asked.

That paused the bunny. "It…did cross my mind, sir," she said.

"I'm a gentlemammal, Trina," he told her. "I do not take advantage of young females in distress."

"Oh," she said.

"You sound disappointed," he mused. He felt the bunny stiffen up.

"To be honest, sir?" she said, working up her courage. "I am."

Kataiahs laughed. "You sound just like your grandmother," he told her. "She was never one to hold back, either!"

Trina spun towards him. "You seduced Gran Mammon?" she asked, enthralled at the prospect.

The lynx chuckled. "Could you imagine _any_ mammal trying to seduce your grandmother?" he countered.

"Not and surviving the attempt," Trina had to agree. "But, did you, sir?"

"A gentlemammal does not kiss and tell, my dear," he said.

Trina clapped a paw to her mouth. "You did!" She giggled. "Now all those stories she and Mother used to tell each other make so much—Oh!" The doe squealed, her ears shooting straight up, barely missing his eyes. "Oh-m-gosh! You slept with Mother!"

Kataiahs swallowed, feeling most uncomfortable. "I think that would be best taken up with Rabbina."

Trina poked a finger to his chest. "Not even Father calls her 'Rabbina,' sir," she told him, feeling immensely clever at finding him out. Then her ears folded back, and her eyes got big. "I have to see it, sir," she said breathlessly, and before the lynx knew it, she had pushed back the covers, hopped down, turned on the nightlight and jumped back onto the bed, kneeling with her head near his crotch.

Kataiahs enjoyed a delightful view of the bunny's rump peeking out from under her nightgown—and another surprise: he never would have guessed his ever so proper assistant wore 'Hello Mitty' panties. Her wagging tail pushed her simple nightgown out of the way while she gently stroked her paw against his growing arousal. When it swelled no larger, Trina reverently pushed down his boxers and gasped.

"It really _is_ bent the wrong way!" she said in amazement. "And the tip! I never believed—"

"Are you serious?" Kataiahs asked, not a little scandalized and wondering when the day's surprises would end. "Does Rabbina really gossip about…"

"Oh, they're family legends, sir," Trina said, completely fascinated with the unusual organ. "Mother would _never_ speak of such things—where she thought us youngsters might be listening, that is. But, sometimes, when she and Gran Mammon had what they thought were private moments, some of us kits would…overhear." She looked at him, suddenly shy. "Sir," she said. "Would you mind if…"

Kataiahs raised his paws. "Be my guest," he said, curious, then lay his head back down with a groan of pleasure as Trina took him in her mouth. He peeked at the bunny's hindquarters; her panties were visibly damp, and the scent of aroused bunny filled the room.

"There is something I have been wondering about," he said, catching his breath. She swung her rump aside, so she could look at him without pausing her movements. "When you dyed your fur black," he asked, "did you get _every_ spot?" She smiled, and her tail shook wildly.

Kataiahs ran his paws over her buttocks and brought down the moist panties, slipping them past her legs and tossing the stylized garment onto the floor. His paws then went between her calves, down to her knees and gently spread them apart, making her back arch down to thrust her femaleness towards him, revealing a narrow patch of wet, undyed fur. He ran a finger along the naturally red fur, then tenderly probed around until he found her entrance and slipped the digit deep inside her. Trina's legs quivered, and she began to purr—as he was himself, he noted with amusement. The lynx brought the intrepid finger to his mouth; she tasted sweet.

He always did like rabbit.

Patience was the key, he reminded himself; lagomorph reflexes were quite unpredictable and their teeth just as sharp, so he contented himself with simply running his paws over the bunny's firm behind and sopping privates. It was enough for him; his hips began to buck, and he surrendered himself to his release, with more amazement in store in this day full of surprises as Trina deftly drained him in her mouth.

Purring up a storm, the lynx watched the bunny lick her lips, then he grasped her hips firmly and brought her easily to his mouth. The bunny moaned. His tongue was rough, like all felines, but not unpleasantly so, and it was warm, and _very_ dexterous. Trina melted in his grasp, going limp as a noodle while the lynx explored and probed with his marvelous tongue, leaving none of her intimate secrets concealed. He greedily lapped up her essence, brought out by his thorough attentions, and as her body tensed in anticipation of her climax, his tongue matched the pace of her tightening muscles, gently bringing her over the edge into bliss, never stopping as she quivered and moaned in his grasp. Even after, he continued, skillfully changing the rhythm and pattern of his licks, soon having the bunny crooning out again in climactic pleasure.

He kissed her hindquarters with the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a flower. Trina looked at him with sated eyes and crawled around to firmly plant her lips on his. They tasted each other's passion in a long, thorough kiss, then collapsed exhaustedly against each other, purring contentedly. After a while, Trina stirred.

"Sir," she began.

"I think we have reached that point where you may call me Kataiahs," he mused.

"Not and survive Mother's wrath," she replied, only half-jokingly. "What I was going to ask, sir, is: did you know this would happen?" She noticed his confusion. "This. You and I. Becoming lovers?"

"One can never predict with total certainty what another mammal will do," he told her.

"You're avoiding the question, sir."

"Quite skillfully, I might add," he said.

"So. You knew," she asserted. She poked him in the chest. "Why did you wait so long?"

"Wait? For what?" She pulled on his whiskers.

"To take me to bed," she chided.

"I seem to recall events unfolding somewhat differently, my dear," he said.

"You're avoiding the question, again."

"Perhaps with reason?"

"I am sure of that, sir," she conceded. "I also hope we have reached the point where you could tell me what it might be."

"Can you not simply enjoy what we have?"

"I will, sir," she assured him. "As often as I can. But I will not to do so under false pretenses."

Kataiahs gave a fond sigh. "That's your great-great-great-grandmother speaking," he told her softly, kissing her on the forehead. "I do so miss her." He wiped a tear from his eye. "Please forgive a sentimental, old cat."

"There is nothing to forgive, sir," she said, sympathetically. "You have been the protector of our family since the First Matriarch. I…I just…you are the kindest, wisest, gentlest mammal I have ever known, sir…but…I would be greatly disappointed if tonight were nothing more than…well…"

"Me, putting another notch on my belt?" he prompted.

She smiled at him. "Yes, sir."

"Well, then," he said. "If you must know: I was waiting for you to conquer your prejudice."

"I am not prejudiced," she protested.

"Not so much, anymore, no," he admitted. "But three years ago? When you first came to Zootopia?" The bunny lay silent.

"I see your point, sir," she finally said. "But I still do not approve of mixed-species marriages."

"Only because you believe marriages is meaningless without kits," he told her. "To you, marriage is the ultimate sacrifice of self: It is the commitment you must make to the Clan, your way of making it stronger to the benefit of everyone in it." He kissed her. "That is not prejudice; it is cultural indoctrination."

The bunny took some time to consider his words. Finally, she spoke. "Is there really that much difference, sir," she said, "when the result is the same?"

"Quite, my dear," he reassured her. "We are lovers, now, because you see me as an equal; a sentient being in my own right, capable of giving and receiving affection on my own merit. Not because of any advantage, or necessity, or expedience, or only for use and discarding as of no consequence. Just consider: would you have befriended Zeke or Gret three years ago?"

Trina sighed, ashamed. "No, sir. I couldn't have."

"That is the difference: you no longer judge a mammal's worth by what species—or Clan—they are, Trina," he said, proudly. "And that is far better than most in the world. It is one more reason you will make a brilliant Matriarch when the time comes."

"Matriarch, sir? Me?" Trina laughed ruefully. "If only the Sanctioning Committee shared your views," she said with disappointment. "I'm the runt of my litter, sir. I'm rebellious, opinionated, with ears too short and front teeth too long, as my sisters say." She giggled. "I even prefer fur colors other than red. No, sir. I'm afraid the Clan would never consider me as a suitable candidate, as I am sure you must know."

Kataiahs nuzzled her head affectionately. "Didn't Rabbina or your grandmother tell you?" he said with amusement. "I _am_ the Sanctioning Committee."

* * *

 _2:03 AM_

Jack stirred restlessly in his bed, tossing and turning under the covers. He spied the alarm clock and groaned, burying his head under the pillow.

 _'_ _She's OK,'_ he told himself. _'They have her and are taking her to safety; you have nothing to worry about.'_ He sat up and threw the pillow at the alarm clock, knocking it off the stand.

 _Bloody hell, mammal! What is wrong with you?_

 _'_ _I miss her,'_ he told himself. _'That's bloody what.'_

 _Can't get behind her tail one night and you fall to pieces? It's not as if you lack other options, mammal. Get it together!_

 _'_ _I don't_ want _anyone else!'_ he explained. _'She...she…understands me.'_

 _She wants kits, you dolt! Understanding doesn't make those. That she doesn't want them right now is the_ **only** _reason she lets you near that delectable tail of hers. You both knew—no, counted on—this going in._

 _'_ _Then explain the note,'_ he challenged himself, picturing the little fox head blowing a heart.

 _With Nicholas back in her life? How many years has she harped on her past 'untainted love' to explain away one failed relationship after another with perfectly suitable foxes? She is feeling happy, mammal! How could she not be! And you know how she is; she is simply biding her time until that doomed relationship disintegrates so she can snatch him up._

Jack had no answer to that.

 _Eloise is always up at this hour. Why not give her a call? You know she likes you and her bed is always warm for you. Who knows? You might even get some sleep afterwards, once you have a warm bunny in your arms._

The buck stared at his phone, lying on the floor next to the alarm clock glowing reproachfully at him.

 _Bloody hell._

He picked up the phone.

* * *

 _4:23 AM_

The badger hesitantly knocked and entered the white wolf's…den, for lack of better words. Inside, his boss (after serving so many years at the embassy, the badger now thought in terms of Zootopian culture) kept the embalmed bodies of his vanquished enemies arranged around the walls, a barbaric and alarming custom among the noble houses of the North. This was meant to induce fear and respect, but all it did for the badger was make him nauseous with disgust. Well, and generate a respectable amount of fear.

The wolf lay naked, curled up on a polar bear rug with his cheek resting on the bear's opened-mouthed head. An eye slid open, eerily glowing in the light spilling in from the open door.

"Lord Belyiklyk," the badger said with a deep bow. "We think we have found something."

"You are aware of my opinions concerning my subordinates thinking?" he growled, revealing his fangs. The badger involuntarily took a step back.

"Y-yes, my lord," he stammered. "W-we _have_ found something."

The wolf reluctantly stretched his paws and pushed himself up to all fours, his stiff malehood prominently on display. Another white wolf came into view behind the aroused male now arching his back, laying asleep on her belly. He nuzzled her tail to the side and licked her exposed privates a few times, then mounted her. She looked fondly over her shoulder, stirring awake.

The badger stood there, unsure of what to do. "Sir…"

"Are you interrupting me, _again_?" came the menacing growl from the busy male.

The badger clamped his muzzle shut, cringing now under the annoyed scrutiny of the snarling female. He felt humiliated beyond compare as her disdainful eyes dismissed him as of no further consequence than a mosquito. He remained still and kept his eyes impassively on the frolicking canines, knowing that to look away or cause further distraction would result in a severe beating—or worse.

The badger had applied for the Embassy post in Zootopia under the promise it would grant him free-mammal status, the reward for his absolute loyalty freely given to the Crown—or death by flaying and disemboweling if he betrayed it. But for the reality of that duty…at least with the wolf…he might as well have remained at home, near his friends, as a slave. At least there he did not have to struggle with the responsibilities of a free-mammal, going ever deeper into debt to the Crown to supplement his token salary in this miserably expensive city while reaping none of the privileges.

His bo—Master. Might as well be honest with himself—was in a hurry, servicing his lover with shallow strokes. That made the badger even more resentful; he was just being humiliated for humiliations' sake. But the she-wolf had other ideas; the badger saw her calculating look, biding her time until the proper moment, then thrusting herself back all the way to catch the Master's swelling knot inside her. Locked together, she howled victoriously, trembling under the Mater's quivering body with her own pleasure.

"I hope, for your sake," the Master growled at the badger, "that what you have found is worth my time. I will be there soon. Be prepared."

Bowing low without a sound, the badger backed out into the hallway and closed the door behind him. _'One day,'_ he vowed. _'One day…'_

On the other side of the door, the she-wolf snuggled closer to her lover. He nipped playfully at her neck.

"You know I am in a hurry, Chia," he told her. "I would have come right back and serviced you properly."

"Really, Octavio?" she said with a tinge of annoyance. "Did you have to service me in front of the badger?"

He laughed. "Don't tell me that bothered you?" he teased. "It's just a slave—no, even less—a slave who thinks it's free."

"If you are going to flaunt my privates in front of other males…"

"Other males?" he protested. "What _other males?_ The badger is a slave!"

"Then you will take the time to service me properly," she admonished, "as is my right, and not like some courtesan who doesn't deserve a few extra moments of your time."

"Your _right_?" he demanded. "Aren't you overstepping your position?"

" _You_ came to _my_ family seeking an alliance," she said, forcefully. "I have been with you over a year now and you still have not done your duty to me."

"My duty?" he snarled. "I have lain with you more than any other female! What complaints could you have?"

"Do not snarl at me, Octavio," she warned. "Yes. You pop into my chambers every few days for a quick turn at my tail and just make a mess in my sheets." She took a deep breath to calm down. "I will concede," she said softly, "that you do, many times, make an effort to pleasure me."

"Then why are we having this conversation now, Chia?" he said, calming down himself.

"Because, Octavio," she said, "I have you knotted for only the second time since we met." She sniffled in her frustration. "Don't you want the kits I could give you? But even if you don't, you know the only way this arrangement ends up in a binding marriage to bring our houses together is if we have kits."

He nuzzled her neck. "Of course, I want them," he whispered fiercely into her ear. "They will be the most extraordinary kits ever to be born!"

"I am very fond of you, Octavio," she told him. "And I think it could grow into something much more, but…no…don't interrupt me; I feel you softening, already." She took another deep breath. "This is what we will do: You will go and attend to your business." He nodded. "Then, you will come back and knot me again," she continued, noticing his smile. "You will do this for me two more times today after that." His smile began to fade. "And at least eight more times in the next two days," she went on, ignoring the now desperate look on his face. "If you do not do this for me, Octavio, I will leave for Aurora on the next airship and let you explain to Father why this marriage will not take place after all the resources he has spent propping up this little Zootopian venture of yours."

Octavio swallowed hard. "But, why now?" he asked. "Your timing could not be worse."

She smiled. "I want your kits in my belly, Octavio," she said. "Really. And the 'timing' is just about right for the next few days. I can feel it."

"And if I can't?"

"Then I will leave you, Octavio."

"I meant," he said, holding her paw, "what if it doesn't take after all that, ah, work?"

She turned and kissed him. "I believe in you, Octavio," she said. "You show up and perform your duty to me, like a proper suitor, and I will do my duty to you with Father. If we fail this time, we try again next cycle. Agreed?"

"You are quite the negotiator, Chia," he said proudly. "Agreed."

"Hurry on, then," she told him. "Do what you must and come back to me. I need to clean this mess up and make myself presentable for your return." She watched him dress, immensely pleased that he did not clean himself off as he usually did. Now the entire staff would pick up her scent on him and know without a doubt who he had bedded, finally acknowledging her status as his betrothed instead of some cheap, live-in mistress.

His eyes roamed all over her from the door, taking in every detail of her used, naked body with pride. As befitted her mate, she thought, pleased with his appraisal. She asserted her submission to him by keeping her head low, showing him a toothless smile and wagging her tail invitingly. But then, something else crept into his eyes, which Chia did not like at all, so she thought it best that she remind him of the stakes.

"Octavio?"

"Yes, my flower?" he answered from the hall.

"Do not disappoint me in this," she said pleasantly. "Or Father's butchers will be carving you up for my next betrothal feast."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading. As always, comments are welcome! Enjoy the holiday.**


	14. Relationships

**Author's Note: Wow! Almost 1,600 views! Thanks, everyone!**

 **Well, I had some time over the last couple of days and put it to use.  
**

 **I hope you are enjoying the story so far.**

 **Enjoy this next installment :)**

* * *

 _5:45 AM_

Eloise sat on her couch, watching Jack pace with amusement. Not the humorous kind, but amusement nonetheless. While she truly liked the striped buck and had taken him to bed more than a few times, she had also noticed a certain pattern of behavior. Like tonight, well, morning now: the buck was not even going to make it to the bedroom, and neither because of nor despite anything she might have said or done.

When he had called her, just before she went to bed, he sounded so eager that she had agreed to let him come over. She had cheerfully freshened up, put on a skimpy negligee, lit some scented candles, and was generally looking forward to having a good bedroom romp with Jack. Eloise had long since given up hope of a lasting relationship with the buck; he was too private and would never let her past those outer defenses, which was a critical flaw for anyone wanting to be with her full time.

And, of course, he had Skye on the brain.

He would always deny it, fervently if pushed, but there it was: Jack was in love with that snake-tailed, color-by-season, too-tall, too-skinny, too-sweet—damn it, all! Beauty-queen vixen. And everyone, except the two of them, knew it.

 _Enough_.

"Jack?" she said, trying to get the pacing buck's attention. "Jack!"

The hare stopped mid-stride. "Huh? Did you say something?"

"Not really, Jack. Just wanted to let you know the sun's coming up."

"Already?" he asked, completely surprised. She nodded.

"You've been pacing around for three hours," she told him.

"Oh. Sorry," he said, looking at his feet knowing he screwed up.

"It's OK, Jack," she said. "What really burns my cookies, is the whole time you've been pacing, all you've done is talk about Skye." Jack mumbled something she assumed was an apology. "I'm even OK with that; I know how you feel about her." She held up her paw and shook her head to stop his automatic protest. "I also know you two are not exclusive, so I don't mind taking up the slack while I'm not seeing anyone—a bunny also has her needs, you know." Jack was tracing circles on the floor with his feet, looking completely dejected.

"I'm sorry, Eloise," he whispered. She sighed.

"Listen, Jack," she said. "I was _really_ looking forward to a having wonderful time with you tonight—and I'm still willing to rock your world. Right now." Jack looked up in surprise. "Under one condition: You can't think about her while you're with me—not even once." She looked him in the eyes. "Can you promise that?" He looked away first.

"No," he said, sadly.

"Come here," she said, holding up her arms. He wandered over to her and she pulled him into a tight hug. "Do you want to stay here? Get some sleep?"

"I don't…I…could I?"

She patted the cushion next to her. He lay down on the couch, with his head in her lap. "You're a good mammal, Jack," she said, stroking his ears. "Troubled, insecure, and devilishly handsome, but a good mammal."

"You smell wonderful, you know," Jack said, his nose twitching.

"Better believe it, bucko," she told him. "But I need my lovers to smell _me_ and not imagine I'm someone else."

"I could try—"

"No, Jack. You've always been honest and treated me with respect; that's why I keep letting you into my bed when I know we have no future together. But I have too much pride to just be your Skye-doll whenever you two have problems. You want to shag Eloise? I'm right here, so, so ready for you. You don't; you want Skye." She tweaked his nose. "Go and tell her, you idiot."

He was silent for a moment. "I'm not a banker, you know," he confessed.

She laughed. "I said, 'honest,' Jack, not 'truthful.' Bankers can't stop talking about how much money they handle. You never speak about money at all."

"She wants kits," Jack said, miserably. "How can I be in love with her? I can't give her kits, Eloise. I'm a selfish prig! She wants kits so badly and I cannot stand the idea of her taking up with some fox! I want her for myself."

"You really suck at relationships, Jack," she said, shaking her head. "I would kill to have some mammal care for me as much as you care for Skye. It wouldn't matter if he were a star-nosed mole."

He smiled. "That could be fun—" She smacked his nose.

"You need to _talk_ to her, Jack," she said. "You wouldn't be the first rabbit-fox couple out there, you know. Granted, those cops are dead now—but you wouldn't be the first."

"But, kits—"

"Can be adopted, you dolt," she told him. "Do you think females—even us bunnies—only care about a houseful of kits?"

"I don't know!" he let out in frustration. "You're all so—complicated." He rubbed his face. "I really do suck at this, don't I?"

"You'll do fine, Jack," she said, tousling his ears, "Just remember: talking won't bag the bunny, as they say. But not telling her how you feel will _certainly_ spook her away. Talk. To. Her."

Jack smiled. "Thanks, Eloise," he said. "You're a better friend than I deserve."

"Well, if you happen to have any single brothers out there, send them my way," she said by way of a joke. Immediately she saw his barriers go up, that wall she could never pierce, disguised as a friendly smile. He was a good mammal, she knew in her heart, but not one without a troubled past. Maybe she was lucky, after all, that Jack had Skye on the brain.

* * *

 _6:30 AM_

Octavio stormed back to his quarters in brooding silence. Guards and embassy staff were quick to salute and get out of his way; the Northern lord's temper was well known, and no one wished to join the collection in the white wolf's chambers. He opened the door to his quarters and stepped into a spotlessly clean room smelling of sweet incense, but otherwise empty. Chia was gone.

A small, gold-mesh gift box, of the type commonly exchanged between lovers in Aurora's many palaces, lay in the middle of the freshly-brushed, polar bear rug. The white wolf curiously reached for the box, picking up Chia's…private…scent from inside. He flipped the cover open to find a slightly damp lock of fur laying atop a paw-written note made out in Chia's exquisite penmanship.

 _I eagerly await my lord's attentions._

Octavio shook his head, marveled at the subtlety of the message. Of course, the damp lock of fur from her private regions made quite clear what attentions his betrothed eagerly awaited. No. It was the lack of salutation, implying that _any_ 'lord' would do just fine. And then, for the master-stroke, there was the lack of a signature line, making the lack of salutation a simple, yet definite warning, because only someone already familiar with Chia's most intimate scent would know who wrote the note.

He smiled. She was a dangerous female.

 _'_ _Is she even worth the risk?'_ he asked himself, trying to figure a plausible way of avoiding the white she-wolf. The badger had not disturbed him without reason; the worker-bees had actually found something of interest and the furthest thing on Octavio's mind right now was being a drone to Chia's feminine urges. _'Damnation! I really_ can't _do this right now,'_ he thought, any and all desire draining away at the humiliating mental picture of some mindless slave standing at stud duty. Sighing in resignation, Octavio turned and headed to Chia's quarters on the next floor, the female's floor, angry at having to waste precious time he did not have dealing with the she-wolf.

Two snow leopards standing guard outside of Chia's quarters hesitated to let the angry wolf in, but they doubted they could stop him, anyway, so they opened the double doors instead while thinking up excuses to give should anything go amiss. Octavio marched in, doors closing behind him, determined to stop this silly nonsense once and for all, and came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Chia in her full bridal gown, soft crimson silk with delicate gold chains decorated with tiny bells draping in loops from her shoulders, and a jeweled headdress sparkling in the light of the chandelier. The she-wolf lay sprawled invitingly on the divan, her chin low on the seat, between her front paws, smiling with no hint of teeth, eyes submissively contemplating the floor and tail wagging seductively. She was beautiful.

"My lord seems troubled," she said meekly.

"Chia," he grumbled, but stopped himself as she rose elegantly from the divan, the tiny gold bells on her dress jingling softly, and stepped up to him, clasping his paws into hers and raising up on her toes to kiss him softly on the lips.

"Shhh," she whispered. "Let me make it better, my lord." She led him by the paw to the divan and pushed him gently down onto it. She loosened his shirt, then walked around the divan to massage his tense shoulders and neck. Octavio was dumbstruck; he had never seen Chia behave like…this—and that took his mind away from all the troubles of the past day and night. She pulled his head back and kissed his forehead, then daintily put a strip of mouse jerky (strictly illegal in most of the world) into his mouth.

"My lord, you are so tense," she whispered into his ear, feeding him another strip of jerky. She stepped around the divan to face him, massaging his arms and chest, taking the time to let her paws coerce his muscles to relax. She skillfully worked her way down to his waist, where she loosened his belt and pulled down his trousers. She frowned. "This will not do, my lord," she chided softly, then knelt between his legs and made use of her tongue and mouth to finish…relaxing…him.

Octavio's mind screamed in fruitless protest. He had a nagging suspicion something deeper was going on, but Chia's attentions fully consumed him and would not let him concentrate on anything but her jeweled bridal headdress bobbing in front of his eyes. She looked radiant in the wedding attire, although physical beauty had never been of foremost importance to Octavio since it often hid other, graver deficiencies. But not in this case, he realized.

Satisfied with her efforts, Chia lifted her dress—she wore nothing underneath—and gracefully straddled Octavio, placing him inside her. Nose against nose, her brown eyes locked on his grey ones, completely devoid of anything more sinister than desire. She placed her paws on his shoulders and rocked her hips rhythmically against him, the tiny bells on her dress jingling hypnotically, and in just a few seconds, it was all over. Octavio could not believe how quick or strong his response was. Chia cried out and slumped against him, and he hugged her tightly, feeling her shivers along with his own. They lay silently in each other's arms until his knot subsided.

He nipped her neck affectionately. "Who are you?" he whispered in wonder.

She gazed into his eyes. "I am she, who would be your wife," she told him lovingly, caressing his cheek with her paw. "I did not think you would come, my lord."

He chuckled. "I came to tell you I do not have the time for this," he confessed. "I knew for certain I could not summon the desire to lay with you." She kissed him.

"But you did come to me, my lord," she said, happily. "You did your duty for me, and, so, I did mine for you." She licked her lips and winked. " _Together_ we accomplished what neither of us, alone, thought could be done." She kissed him again. "That is your lesson for today."

"Lesson?" he asked, amused.

"Yes, my lord," she said, demurely. "I have come to realize that, even as remarkably progressive as you are, there are still some things too ingrained for you to easily overcome."

"Are you saying, I'm stupid?" She kissed him and laughed softly.

"Quite the contrary, my lord," she said. "But your intellect focuses on other things, as it should, for one in your position. I do not wish for you to be distracted from those by the vagaries of life."

" _Vagaries of life_?" he asked, puzzled.

"Me, my lord," she answered, sincerely. "You were correct to chastise me earlier; I _have_ been over-stepping my position. Starting the day you brought me from my father's house." She shushed him with her paw on his lips. "I have been disrespectful, argumentative, rebellious, demanding, jealous, overbearing, unaffectionate and taken liberties calling you by your personal name." She bowed her head. "I am truly surprised and grateful beyond measure for whatever attentions you have given me, my lord."

Octavio's face reflected the utter confusion his mind found itself dealing with. The wolf had not reached his position by mere birth, nor by playing it safe, so he examined all the alarms going off in his head, weighed the consequences of dismissing them, and made his choice. It was much more pleasant than he imagined. He placed his paw under her chin and gently brought her head up for a lingering kiss.

She smiled. "Please do not expect me to change, my lord," she said apologetically. "I meant _everything_ I said earlier. But, from now on, I shall be your humblest slave until I have earned the right to be called your wife, as is proper for a lord of your stature."

 _'_ _This is a completely different mammal,_ ' he thought. "How could I miss this treasure right under my eyes?" he asked the chandelier. "I've never met anyone like you," he told the she-wolf.

She laughed. "That was _my_ lesson for today, my lord," she told him. "Put a treasure you want found were it can be seen."

"How can a wolf such as you remain unmarried for so long?" he asked. "Not that I regret the fact, my beloved."

The effect of that last word was devastating. Lighting up with a joyous smile, Chia collapsed in his arms, crying her heart out in wracking sobs. Completely at a loss for what to do, Octavio simply stared. Never having been a compassionate mammal before but feeling moved to comfort her, he did the best he could, and his pitiful efforts soon had his betrothed laughing softly.

"My lord," she asked, "how can anyone be so bad at soothing another mammal?"

"I-I was not raised showing how to give comfort," he confessed gruffly. "Perhaps it is time for me to learn, as I am to become a father."

"As my lord wishes," she said, softly. "Through it would greatly please me. As to your earlier question, my lord, you surely know I was far down the line of succession."

He chuckled. "How else could someone like me aspire to an Imperial Princess?" he admitted.

"Do not underestimate yourself, my lord," she said. "I studied you long and well before I chose to accept you; you were not my only suitor." She giggled. "Or, more accurately, not until Lord Kysdel ended up in your collection downstairs and the others unexpectedly withdrew their petitions."

"That was sort of the intention," he admitted, proudly. "But I will confess I was surprised it only took one duel; I had always heard the stories of wanton bloodbaths for the hand of a Princess."

"As I said, my lord," she said, fondly. "I was far down the line."

Something clicked in Octavio's mind.

"Was?" he asked.

"You are such a jester, my lord," she said, amusedly. "Surely you must have heard that Crown Prince Herold died in that hunting accident last week?" He nodded. "And my poor brothers Grant, Peter and Troy? That boating accident, six months ago?" He nodded again, slower. "And, would you believe Richard and Kendrik fell off a cliff exploring the Wildlands this summer? No? It was hard for me, too; they were never the adventurous type."

Octavio simply stared at his betrothed now.

"I was also really surprised," she went on, "when Amelia so foolishly committed suicide over that despicable Lord Watsol, two-three months ago—I tell you, my lord, I'm glad that whelp drowned in his hot-tub." She took a deep breath and her eyes got big. "Then, Corona went and fell off that ostrich and broke her neck! I mean, _why_ would she be riding an _ostrich_? And, Willemina?" she gushed. "Eating that puffer fish? Imagine that! I never even _knew_ she liked sushi," she waved her paw in surprise, then frowned.

"And, of course," she added somberly, "just last month, Krystal had that tragic miscarriage with her first pregnancy; I'm told she will never have kits again." She sighed, then kissed his forehead.

"And to think, my lord, that I was _so_ far down the line at one time," she said, staring into his eyes.

 _'_ _What a wolf!'_ Octavio thought, thrilled and terrified at the same time. "Coincidences like those are amazing," he told her with a smile.

"Aren't they, my lord?" she purred, then languidly got up and helped him off the divan. She went to get his shirt from the backrest and it slipped over, so she climbed onto the divan and leaned over the back to get the shirt a little too fast, her tail shooting up into the air as she almost fell over. Octavio's paws grasped her hips to keep her down.

"This is the loveliest gown I have ever seen, my beloved," he murmured. Her tail wagged.

"I'm glad it pleases you, my lord," she said. "I shall wear it more…" She gasped as Octavio's paws lifted her dress over her hips and plunged his malehood urgently inside her. "My lord…I thought…you said…you lacked…desire!" He nipped her neck, making her howl. "Slow down…my love…"

Octavio's heart swelled unfamiliarly at her confession of love. He obliged his mate, which his mind had since decided she now was regardless of any whelps they might spawn together. They continued their coupling long past what Octavio ever imagined he could, until, finally, Chia turned her head around for a kiss. She was ready.

"That's it…my love," she cried out. "Give me…your pups…and the Empire…is yours!"

Outside her chambers, the two snow leopards exchanged knowing glances and sighed with relief. The muffled howls coming through the doors were not the sounds of murder.

* * *

 _7:30 AM_

 _'_ _Canines and windows,'_ Judy mused at the controls, watching Nick and Skye howl wildly with their heads out the window. Nick had suggested the—to Judy—silly endeavor to Skye to lift her spirits. And it surely worked, seeing the laughter and sparkle return to the vixen. Judy shook her head.

 _'_ _Kits,'_ she thought, smiling.

The doe had jealously kept an eye on the two foxes after noting how much the vixen clung to her husband, deciding to play it safe rather than risk her relationship. But it was soon clear that Skye's clinginess was not romantic; it was very affectionate, that much was certain, but more like what you see between older and younger siblings.

The interactions between the foxes had changed dramatically since Judy had first seen them together just—two days ago? Judy shook her head. She no longer viewed Skye as a rival; she knew Skye did not consider Nick a potential mate. Call it female intuition, but Skye had her sights on someone else for that role. Judy wondered who it might be, though she thought she already knew who it was.

The coast came into view over the horizon, high points peeking through a thick layer of surface fog a few miles ahead; they were almost there. She hoped with all her heart she had not miscalculated when she and Nick came up with their plan. Jack had given no objections, though he admitted a lack of substantial information on the subject, so they had simply informed the Mayor and Chief Bogo and received their grudging approval.

"Nick!" she called out, unnecessarily, since the tod had already noticed the approaching coastline. He stood behind her and put his arms possessively around the doe, his way of telling her he had noticed her previous concern over Skye and she had nothing to worry about. He kissed her tenderly between the ears, his favorite spot-one of them, at least-and silent way of saying ' _my bunny_.'

"Aye, Admiral Long Ears!" he drawled. "Land ahoy!"

"So," Skye said, laughing. She curled down on the blanket. "I see the Valiant Captain Fox still threatens the high seas!"

"I be threat only to scoundrels, me lass!" Nick assured.

"So," the vixen reasoned aloud, "ramming that fishing boat with Pappa's yacht was making the high seas safe?"

"Arrghh! That scoundrel was blocking me path illegally!" Nick complained. "Most assuredly also poaching the poor crabs!"

Skye laughed. "I think I feel safer with Judy at the controls!"

"I can't park this thing," Judy protested.

"Aye, me bunny!" Nick said. "That requires a Master Seamammal!"

"So," Skye said. "When you tried—"

"Arrghh!" Nick interrupted, emerald eyes wide and ears flat. "Ye be divulging things ye swore to ne'er bring up again!"

Eyes sparkling, Skye closed the imaginary zipper on her mouth and tossed the key.

"I'm going to get coffee," Judy said, letting Nick at the controls. "Any takers?" Both foxes raised their paws. Judy went below to the galley and prepared a pot of strong coffee. She took cups and snacks to Kurt and Blackwell, who had both been standing ready at the machine guns since dawn; luckily, this part of the ocean was usually devoid of morning traffic. Another reason they opted for this location.

The boat had slowed down and was entering the fog bank now. Judy hurried and took coffee and some blueberries into the control cabin, hoping Skye could keep the fruit down; so far, the vixen had been unable to stomach any of the different protein bars they had on board. Maybe because they looked like crap, Judy mused. To her, they did not smell much better, either.

Skye was sleeping again when Judy came in. The rabbit handed her mate some coffee, and the tod's eyes zeroed in on the blueberries, tail wagging. He licked his lips.

"They're for Skye," Judy said.

"She's sleeping," he reasoned. "She'll never even know."

"Says who?" Skye said groggily from the floor. "Those are mine, you greedy pirate."

Judy handed Skye her coffee. "Do you think you can keep them down?" she asked the vixen. Skye's stomach growled loud enough for Nick to hear.

"My stomach seems to think so," the vixen said. "At least they smell edible." She popped a blueberry into her mouth and smiled appreciatively. "These are good! No wonder Captain Fox, there, is addicted to them!" Nick gave a thumbs-up.

"You never tried blueberries?" asked Judy.

"Never liked the smell before," she answered thoughtfully, absently popping blueberries into her mouth in quick succession. "I can't believe I've been missing out on these!" Soon her muzzle was blue, and the blueberries were gone. Smiling, Judy handed her a moist towelette.

"Another blueberry fan is born," she said. "What's our ETA, Captain Fox?"

"We're pretty much here, Carrots," he told her, keeping a close watch out ahead. "Been a while since I've been in these parts; just need to find—there!" he pointed to a blinking glow. He slowed the boat to a crawl and skillfully aimed towards the glow. Soon, a buoy passed them portside (left, Nick had explained to Judy) and a wooden dock came in to view. Nick maneuvered the boat alongside the dock, stopped the engines, and locked down the controls.

Kurt jumped across to the dock and tossed mooring lines to Blackwell, who tied them down expertly to fixtures on the boat. Kurt then rolled a wide, treaded plank across the gap to the deck and climbed aboard to start dismantling the machine guns while Blackwell went below to bring the tarp they would hang over the boat to conceal it from casual view.

Skye leaned on Nick, limping down the plank onto the dock. Judy followed close behind, carrying Skye's bag and the duffel holding all the doe's and Nick's remaining possessions; it was embarrassingly light. The trio walked up the dock through the thinning fog, towards a white stretch-limousine waiting idling on the road ahead. When they got close, a large, familiar polar bear climbed out of the limousine. Skye stopped, then ran stumbling and threw herself crying at the polar bear, who caught her and spun her around.

"Uncle Koslov!" she cried, sobbing in the bear's warm embrace. Koslov smiled, misty-eyed.

"See, Carrots?" Nick said. "I told you he could smile."

* * *

 **Author's Note: There you have it.**

 **Don't hesitate to let me know what you think.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Enjoy!**


	15. Long Live the Empress

**Author's Note: Here is a short chapter to give a bit more background information.**

 **Enjoy**.

* * *

 _7:40 AM_

Kataiahs awoke to the soothing sound of a sleeping bunny purring contentedly against his chest. It was a sound he knew well, and one that filled him with nostalgia; he already knew Trina would be one of the difficult ones.

The young doe was generous, enthusiastic, affectionate and refreshingly sincere, with an inquisitive nature that delighted him, always looking beyond the surface for the hidden truths lurking beneath. She had a remarkably quick mind capable of deep insights, coupled with the integrity and loyalty that had been the trademark of the Hongtuzi Dynasty for thirty-five generations.

He loved her, as he had all her predecessors, as well as those of the other Clans that had preceded hers. But there was love, and there was _love_. Kataiahs had run the math once; it could be expressed with a simple equation, or even described with basic statistics: Every few generations, someone was guaranteed to appear with the particular set of qualities that resonated with the lynx. Then he would inevitably be _in_ _love_. Again.

And that, really, was not such a terrible thing; it was much better than the alternative, he knew from experience. The only drawback was the grief. If he were to look at it the wrong way, his life was nothing more than an endless chain of funerals decorated with loss which, he also knew from experience, would drag any mammal down into the pits of despair. So, instead, he chose to view his life as an endless meeting of wonderful new friends and companions.

Kataiahs knew he had an eye for the females; always had, and all signs said he always would. He was not, well, predatorial, towards them—just completely captivated by them. The way they moved, the way they looked, the way they smelled, even the way they thought; he could not get enough of them. He preferred being around them, and if it resulted in a relationship, so much the better. But he was choosey when it came to relationships; he didn't like keeping secrets from those he cared about, and the secrets he kept were not to be trusted with just anyone.

He had also acquired a definite preference for bunnies over the years. He found they were much more casual and open with relationships than other mammals, though most would not consider anything more than friendship with a member of another species, let alone with a predator such as himself.

Looking back, he sometimes wondered if this fascination with females had been why he had insisted the Kingdom of Grandterre be set up as a Matriarchy. He knew it wasn't, but his various relationships with a hundred-fifty generations of Matriarchs, both 'just friends' and 'companions,' could give one that impression.

The Matriarchs were 'safe' for the lynx. A successful candidate could only remain with him a few years before having to return home and assume the throne. Meaning, any relationship that might develop was a guaranteed short-term relationship from the start, something both parties knew and freely accepted. Like going to summer camp and meeting someone you knew you would never see again; what happened at summer camp, stayed at summer camp, end of story. Should the candidate in question meet his approval (and most did), she would go home, marry her Clan-selected husband, and become the new Matriarch. Twenty years after that (on average), the next candidate would arrive on his doorstep, ready for their final training and approval.

 _'Like shampoo,'_ he thought, wryly. _'Lather, rinse. Repeat.'_

The necessarily short-term (at least to him) nature of the relationships made the loss of these extraordinary females to the inevitability of death much more bearable. He deeply loved them all, whether companions or just friends, but such was life: always in motion towards that ultimate destination.

Except for his, of course.

No. For him, life had other plans. From that moment when he first realized he was himself, the lynx had known, deep inside, that he was unique. Maybe, some day, he would actually take the time to figure out what life expected of him. For now, however, he had other, much more important things to do.

He had a bunny in his arms to cuddle.

 _Bollocks._

* * *

 _7:50 AM_

Skye looked quietly out the window, settled comfortably in Koslov's massive arms, watching old, familiar landmarks pass by on their way to a reunion she was certain she was not ready for.

She hadn't seen Papa in over twelve years, nor spoken to him in ten. The last time she had, she had spoken very harsh words to her adopted father. She did not regret speaking those words, however, only that she had spoken them over the phone instead of in person. Her father had not replied, listening silently at the other end of the line in his usual stoic manner when he knew he was in the wrong. He had not even apologized, though it was probably for the best; there was no excuse he could have given that would make her forgive him. Likely, it would have just made matters worse; at least she did not hate the arctic shrew, which she might had he tried to justify his actions.

He had abandoned her to die.

Had it not been for Jack, she would never have escaped, let alone made it back to Zootopia. They would have flayed her alive for killing those who would own her, or worse yet, she would still be a slave.

And her father had done nothing.

 _'As Nicky would say, this is going to be fun,'_ she thought. She felt queasy again, but the blueberries from the boat were faring better than the dreadful protein bars. Her stomach growled, impatiently asking for attention, letting her know she was ravenous, rather than nauseous.

Hearing her discomfort, Nick smiled, reaching into the mini-fridge between the seat rows to pull out a chocolate-covered peanut butter bar: her favorite treat since she was a kit. Her stomach clamored loudly for the treat, even making Koslov grin. She took the candy bar from Nick, unwrapped it, and shamelessly put the whole thing into her mouth, chewing away with gusto while fondly remembering doing the same many times in the past. Judy smiled, shaking her head, her eyes saying _'kits.'_

At last they passed through the gates of the Big estate, up the tree-lined driveway, to the fountained rotunda that was the front entrance to the main house. Standing eagerly by the large, open double-doors was Arkadia, one of Koslov's polar-bear nieces who also happened to be Skye's oldest friend. Hopping up and down excitedly on Arkadia's shoulder was Skye's sister, Fru-Fru, paw-in-paw with her two kits, Judy and Agosto. Skye's mouth formed a silent 'O' at this first view of her niece and nephew.

"Adorable, right?" said Judy. "But, they're full of mischief. Be warned."

"They're not so bad," countered Nick. "Just energetic." He shivered. "And there's only two of them," he added.

The limousine came to a stop. Koslov stepped out, cradling Skye in his arms, followed by Nick and Judy. Catching sight of the vixen's bandaged knee, Arkadia and Fru-Fru started crying while the two kits looked on in alarm, wondering what sudden sorrow had come over their mother.

"Uncle Nick! Aunt Judy!" the kits called out worriedly. "Why is momma crying?" asked little Judy. "Did somebody make her sad?" asked Agosto.

"Nothing to worry about," Nick reassured them. "Just having a grown-up moment." The tod held out his arms, prompting the kits to leap from Arkadia over to him, all their troubles easily forgotten. Nick made a show of falling to the ground under the onslaught. " _Now_ look what you've _done_ ," he drawled. "Big Bad Fox gonna getcha!" The two kits squealed in delight, running away screaming into the house with Nick, now in full 'Pouncing-Fox' mode, hot on their trail.

Fru-Fru shamelessly imitated her kits, leaping over to give her sister a tearful hug while Arkadia sandwiched the vixen against Koslov. Judy's eyes misted over; she loved moments like these.

 _'You're such an emotional bunny,'_ she thought to herself, smiling.

"Come, Arkadia," Koslov said. "We get little Cynthia inside now. She need breakfast. Her stomach growl like tap dancing rhinoceros."

"I'm not sure I want anything else right now," Skye told him.

"Nonsense," the polar bear told her. "Mamishka make your favorite: Salmon cakes." Skye's stomach voiced its approval. Koslov grinned and they all went inside, walking down the main hallway into the family dining room, where Koslov gently put the vixen down in her once-customary place at the right of the table head.

Judy sat directly across from her, and when no one politely asked her to move, Skye looked at the doe with curiosity, wondering how a ZPD officer could have earned a spot at her father's side. Then she remembered the doe had said she was her sister's kits' godmother; that was a story she looked forward to hearing.

Squeals approached quickly from the hall, little Judy and Agosto bounding into the dining room, scrambling up chairs, onto the table, and over to their mother sitting next to Skye. Nick made a final pounce into the room before walking over, panting, to the place next to his mate. When he had taken his spot, the doors to the kitchen opened. A large, matronly female polar bear came in pushing a cart carrying the group's breakfast. She served Skye first.

"You, too skinny," she chided the vixen, setting down a plate heaped with golden brown salmon cakes. "Why you not eat more? You want blow away in wind?"

"I missed you, too, Mami," Skye told her.

"Hah! You miss me, why you no visit? You lucky! Judy and Nicholai visit here today, or you no have good breakfast, eh!"

"I'm sorry, Mami," the vixen said. "I promise, I will come visit more."

"Yes. You do that! I fatten you right, you see! Then you find handsome fox, like Judy find Nicholai!"

"Yes, Mami," Skye said, smiling. The polar bear gave her a rough kiss on the head, then served the others their breakfast, including some walnut-carrot cakes made specially for Judy. The polar bear held her composure all the way back into the kitchen before they heard her burst into tears.

"She be alright," Koslov said. "Have meal now. Later we talk about this trouble come our family way."

"Uncle Koslov," Skye asked quietly, "where is Papa?" The polar bear, fidgeted.

"He not here," he said. "He very upset last night after Judy call him; he leave early morning with Andrei, Pietro and Yuseph to take care of some business. He be back soon, malenkiy, don't you worry."

* * *

 _8:00 AM_

Jack's phone rang with a deliberately annoying tone. The buck rolled over to reach across the night stand and—promptly rolled off the couch, banging his head loudly against the coffee table.

 _'That's right,'_ he remembered, rubbing his head and checking for blood. _'I'm at Eloise's.'_ There was no sign of the doe, but there was a note on the table.

 _Food in the fridge,_

 _El._

The phone warbled again. First things first; he had been expecting this call since yesterday.

"Good morning, Arthur," he said, answering the phone while still rubbing his head. "What can I do for you?"

 _'What the blazes is going on over there, Jack?'_ demanded the grey fox hotly. _'You running ops on my turf when you have terrorists blowing up your buildings?'_

"Why would I be running _anything_ in Plainsville, Arthur?" Jack responded, picking himself off the floor, hungrily wandering towards the kitchen.

 _'That's what I want to know, Jack,'_ Arthur said impatiently. _'Why was Skye snooping around here yesterday?'_

"Is _that_ where she was?" the buck said innocently, rummaging through the icebox, rattling various bottles and containers in search of something appetizing; Eloise was a health fanatic whose idea of food would be better translated as 'wood.'

"Snooping, you say?" Jack continued, rummaging noisily now through the cupboards.

 _'Are you just getting up?'_ Arthur asked in disbelief. _'Don't you people ever work over there?'_

"I'm at El's place," Jack explained. "Had kind of a late night; you know how that is, right, Arthur?" Jack pumped his fist. _Yes!_ Arthur would surely check his phone's GPS, and that's exactly where Jack would be: at Eloise's flat. And, suspicious prig that he was, the fox was certain to have already checked the mission logs, and last night's operation to pick up Cynthia was not on them.

 _'I'm letting you know first that I'm placing Skye on the wanted list,'_ Arthur said. _'She assaulted me and another agent yesterday. If you're not running anything over here, then she's gone rogue.'_

"Rogue? Skye?" Jack said. "Are you out of your mind, Arthur?" Time for the first test. "Why would she assault you? Weren't you two…entertaining…each other at one time?"

Slight pause. _'Yes, Jack. We did…entertain…each other for a while; but that was a long time ago,'_ the grey fox lied. _'Skye showed up in my office yesterday and tried to hit on me; when I tell her nowadays, I'm happy with my wife, wham! She tranqs me, hacks into my computer, and steals my phone.'_

"I don't believe that for a moment, Arthur," Jack said, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure there must be some other explanation."

 _'The cameras in my office caught everything on tape, Jack,'_ the fox said. _'I know you two are close. I just wanted to give you the heads up.'_

"I want copies of those tapes, Arthur," Jack told him. "These are very serious charges."

 _'It gets worse, Jack,'_ Arthur said. _'My people had her spotted downtown yesterday afternoon, but would you believe, she ambushed the agent and knocked her out on the street without warning? Then, a reaction team spotted her again last night along the coast, and a firefight broke out! The ID we have on the getaway boat matches a known gunrunner.'_

Jack sighed. "I-I can't believe that," he said, melodramatically raising his paw to his head in shock. "You must be mistaken."

 _'I know it's hard, Jack,'_ Arthur said. _'But these are dangerous times; you just can't trust a fox,'_ he rambled on, paradoxically so, in Jack's view. _'She's a Northener, after all.'_

 _'YES!'_ Jack thought, hopping excitedly. _'I got you!'_ Nowhere in Skye's record was it mentioned that she was from the North; Skye's adopted father, the infamous Mr. Big, had taken care of that decades ago. Her legal adoption records listed one Cynthia Pearl Big as born of an unknown Zootopian vixen and abandoned soon after birth on the doorsteps of the Happy Town Orphanage. There were even affidavits of this from several witnesses on file, as well as other assorted records to make the paper trail complete. Mr. Big spared no expense for his family.

 _'Let the ZBI pick her up and straighten it all out,'_ Arthur went on. _'Or I can send a team, if you'd rather clean this up quietly. There's no need for you to get implicated, too, Jack.'_

 _'What a fabulous idea,'_ the buck thought with amusement. _'Your teams have been so effective, after all.'_ He paused. "I don't know what to say, Arthur," he said, somberly, now covering his eyes with the back of his paw. "I never expected anything like this from her. Do you know what she was after?"

 _'They're analyzing my workstation now,'_ the fox said. _'We should know in a day or two.'_

"OK, Arthur," Jack said, at last finding some edible-looking pastries. "I concur, under the circumstances. Get Skye on the wanted list; let's pick her up."

 _'Don't worry, Jack,'_ Arthur said. _'It's all going to work out. I'll get the evidence we have over to you before lunch.'_ The line went dead. Within seconds, a secure alert message popped up on his phone with the all-points advisory to apprehend and detain Skye. The lying prig had obviously called Jack last; putting an agent on the wanted list needed the unanimous approval of all the department heads.

What surprised Jack the most was the advisory end line: Dead or alive.

 _Bloody bastard!_

* * *

 _8:05 AM_

For the second time that morning, and the last time ever, Chia entered the unattached females' commons area from her room's private entrance. All the females' rooms had such an entrance, of course, and there was only one other way in, heavily guarded on the outside. There were no males allowed in here—not even slaves.

Breeding laws in the world's northernmost country were famously strict. Baratean law dictated unattached females of breeding age needed a chaperon at all times. Legally betrothed females could travel alone during daytime hours or be entrusted to the custody of their intended mate. The unattached female caught without proper escort faced severe punishment, the one caught alone with a non-related male, more so. The one caught alone with an unattached male faced mandatory death should the trial, although usually very lenient, find her behavior 'predatory.'

A male who felt slighted by another male's interactions with his mate or betrothed was free to challenge the offender to a duel to the death, and the winner of such duels would not face repercussions from the family of the loser. The winner would also be entitled to the contested female and her possessions, which could be substantial since attached males could not own property; females took ownership of a male's possessions at the marriage ceremony, with multiple wives holding divided control based on seniority.

Until betrothed, a female remained in the custody of her family. The breeding laws ensured continued familial succession and guarded the passing of a family's wealth by requiring offspring from the betrothed couple as proof of their fitness for marriage. This could be awkward for the courting couple to achieve while the female stayed in her childhood home, where adequate privacy might be impossible to find and the presence of an unattached male wandering around the premises might be unwanted or viewed with hostility. The result of these circumstances were the maintenance of large, guarded areas and compounds dedicated to housing betrothed females, especially those of the nobility, who required privacy and unrestricted access to their betrothed during courtship, which lasted, on average, four months. The Baratean Embassy in Zootopia had one of the most luxurious such areas in the Empire, Zootopia being considered a hardship posting where not even real meat was available.

Unattached—or attached, even—Chia was, by far, the highest-ranking female in the embassy, making her the favorite topic for gossip among the others, as well as the one these others wanted the most to befriend. That Chia, at over one year, was also the female who had been here, by far, the longest had the effect of splitting the other females in two camps: Those who were sympathetic and felt sorry for her, and those who felt contempt at the lack of breeding success. Chia could tell who belonged to which camp, and, with the way her mind worked, kept two running lists, one for each camp, to deal with accordingly when the time came.

The wolf still wore her bridal gown, most of the clasps undone, and smelling strongly of sex and Octavio. As she approached the heated pool in the center of the commons, the females lounging around gossiping and otherwise relaxing took notice of her, those with the sharper sense of smell knowing the significance of her entrance. One of those she considered a friend, a white panther named Rosella, burst into happy laughter and leaped across the narrow end of the pool, rushing over to catch Chia in a hug, twirling her friend around like a doll.

"Chia!" she shouted. "I am so happy for you! And you look so beautiful!"

Chia howled with joy, hugging her friend in turn. "Oh, Rosella," she said, dreamily. "You were so right!" The panther was the one who had suggested she wear the bridal gown and display complete submission to Octavio. "He took me three times! He was almost feral with me! See?" she pulled down her collar, revealing where Octavio had nearly bitten through the skin of her neck in his passion. Other females on her 'friends' list began gathering around her, admiring the bite marks (because there were more than one) and joshing her good-naturedly about her disheveled appearance and matted fur.

Celine, a pretty brown otter about the height of Chia's waist, was the first to notice the main source of Chia's giddiness. "My goodness!" she said, taking a polite sniff in the manner of good friends around Chia's tail. She hugged the wolf. "Oh, Chia! You're marked!" The other females around her collectively gasped in surprise, taking their own turn sniffing politely, some with jealousy, to verify the mark, leading to another round of hugs and congratulations, now accentuated by many joyfully-sad cries of "You're leaving us!"

It took only a couple of minutes before Celine and Rosella looked at each other with wide eyes. The two females backed away and dropped to their knees, bowing low to the ground in obeisance. This, at first, went unnoticed by the rest, but soon caused a chain reaction among all of Chia's well-wishers.

Their friend would be the next Empress.

All around the commons, those on Chia's 'other' list discreetly began drifting out of the area, fervently hoping they would live to see the rest of the day.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **I wanted to get a few details on 'paper' for you. The next chapter will reveal more about the game taking place.**

 **Until next time! Thanks for reading.**


	16. Honeytrap

**Author's Note: I hope you have a happy new year!  
**

 **I was able to spend some time writing, so here is the next installment.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _8:10 AM_

The best-known secret in the ZPD was that Nick and Judy WildeHopps had 'family ties' to Antonio Big. Ever since those ties had come into place, criminal activity by Zootopia's largest known criminal organization had plummeted, so the Mayor's office had let the word filter down that the WildeHopps were to be left alone as long as no criminal involvement was linked to them.

The entire city benefitted, as Mr. Big's 'employees' took it upon themselves to police the other crime families away from such damaging activities as drug dealing and slave trafficking (which Mr. Big had never tolerated within his own organization.) Nevertheless, there remained the understanding that if any evidence were ever found linking the arctic shrew to any criminal activity, he would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

To Mr. Big, that was just one of the risks of doing business. He even accepted that Nick and Judy might be the ones called upon to perform the arrest—and he expected no less from mammals of such integrity.

When Judy had suddenly called him yesterday, Antonio had been grieving over the loss of two of his most beloved children, which is how he thought of the rabbit and her mate. After Judy detailed what she needed from him and why, the arctic shrew had been speechless with joy.

Cynthia, his little snow flower, was coming home.

Then Judy, clever bunny that she was, had casually mentioned during their chit-chat how she and Nick had visited an unusual club called Frisky Kitties, and asked if Antonio had ever been there which, he truthfully replied, he had not.

What Antonio left unsaid, was that he did know the owners of the club, and that his family was on very good terms with theirs—business is business, after all. Antonio called the club manager, a jolly feline named Irene Van Cougart, and asked if she'd had any problems with garbage in the last few days, to which she told him, a couple of raccoons had been seen littering as far down the strip as Canal District Memorial Hospital. A couple of extra phone calls was all it took to prepare for today's…business…appointment.

Koslov's younger brother, Yuseph, carried Mr. Big's armored carriage somberly in his paws, steady and unwavering as they made way towards the room where the two Baratean raccoons convalesced. Andrei and Pietro walked vigilantly on either side, a few steps behind. The two ZPD officers guarding the door gave the approaching polar bears grim, smiling nods before walking away down the hall to the break area; they did not know Nick and Judy were still alive. All they knew, was that the two creeps behind the door they guarded probably had something to do with their deaths, since neither officer believed the 'gas range' explanation.

Andrei, the smallest of the three bears, stayed outside, blocking the door while Yuseph and Pietro went in. The raccoons lay quietly watching TV, having just finished their morning protein shakes. They looked in surprise at the bears, who now stood rock still and silent in front of the TV, Pietro with his paws behind his back, and Yuseph cradling Mr. Big's carriage with both paws in front of him.

"You in wrong room!" shouted the senior raccoon. "Why stupid policemammal let you in, anyway?" The polar bears stared ahead silently.

"You block TV, moron!" shouted the junior one, confident the ZPD officers outside would come in any moment and take the two bears away. Maybe, even give them a fine for disturbing their TV show.

The bears stared ahead impassively.

The raccoons shouted and cursed at the (unknown to them, absent) ZPD officers, until it finally sank in that no one would be coming to remove the polar bears. Then they were nervously silent.

As if on cue, Yuseph carefully drew open Mr. Big's clamshell carriage, revealing the arctic shrew sitting comfortably in his wheelchair. The raccoons whined in recognition.

"Ah," Antonio said pleasantly in fluent Baratean. "I see you know who I am…That is good! It saves everyone a lot of…time…you do not have." The raccoons were silent, but their eyes said everything the arctic shrew needed to know.

"I have a problem," the shrew went on, clasping his paws in his lap. "You see, two of my children have been…murdered…and now, I need to know from whom I shall…collect…their blood-debt."

The senior raccoon sneered. "You're a criminal!" he spat out. "What do you know about blood-debt?"

Antonio considered those words. "I prefer to think of myself as a…businessmammal," he replied. "Criminals…they have no code of honor…no restraint from violence." He leaned forward. "If I were to…think…of myself as such…" he said softly, "I would simply chew my way through your eye socket, eat your brains for breakfast, and defecate in your empty skull."

He leaned back comfortably against the seat rest again. "Lucky for you," he said kindly. "I am simply a …businessmammal…But, any businessmammal knows that debts require…collection." He paused. "A blood-debt is simply…more personal." He leaned forward once more, and as small as he was, the expression on his face frightened the raccoons more than the polar bears.

"It cannot _ever_ be forgiven," Antonio growled. "But I _can_ collect it, one _slice_ at a time, starting with _you_."

Bringing his paws from behind his back, Pietro held what looked like a potato-peeler, which would have been comical except for the dried blood caked along the ends. The catheters running into the urine-collection bags kept the raccoons' beds clean…mostly.

"W-we had n-nothing to d-do with the b-bomb," stammered the junior raccoon, watching with horrid fascination as Pietro twirled the potato-peeler. His partner closed his eyes in exasperation at the junior's slip-up. _'Might as well gamble,'_ he thought.

"Just get on with it, and kill us," he said with much more bravado than real courage. "Stop wasting our time."

Antonio gave him a friendly smile. "Mr. Yenὸt," he said, pleasantly. "May I call you Davitch?" The raccoon nearly jumped out of his skin at the mention of his name. "Death is so…final…Do you not agree?" Davitch nodded in shocked agreement. "My poor children…they had…what? Fifty, sixty years to live?" Antonio shook his head sadly. "No. No, my dear Davitch…I could not, in good conscience, deprive you of your life…so suddenly."

He sat back, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. "No," he went on. "I have to find a way to…balance the account…as we businessmammals like to say." He looked at the raccoon, smiling. "Not for my sake, you must understand…No…It's for my grandkits, you see: They miss their godmother and their favorite uncle most terribly." His expression changed again, this time turning cold as a stone. "I'm certain Yelinda and little Michelis would understand," he said, naming the raccoon's wife and kit.

"You monster!" screamed Davitch, struggling against his casts. "You stay away from my family!"

"Davitch, Davitch," Antonio said, shaking his head with disappointment. " _I_ did not incur this debt. I simply want to collect what is owed me...one family to another...You should have considered this, Davitch. A good businessmammal knows to…weigh the risks…of any venture before embarking upon it." He shrugged. "You simply are…not…a good businessmammal."

Antonio sighed. "I truly wish I could tell you this isn't personal," he began softly, then snarled. "But it is."

Davitch struggled futilely in his bed, frothing at the mouth. "I'll kill you, you miserable little rodent! You're dead!"

Antonio shook his head sadly. "My dear Davitch," he said. "You completely misunderstand your situation. These streets…they are not the backstreets of Aurora, where…your kind…roam free, terrorizing and murdering any mammal they wish. No." He glared menacingly at the raccoon.

"This is _my_ town," Mr. Big assured him. "You live…and die…at _my_ pleasure." Pietro walked over and calmly snapped the raccoons' one, unbroken leg. Davitch yelped, then fainted.

"So, Mr. Kazetzky," Antonio said pleasantly to the trembling junior raccoon. "May I call you Thomas? Good! Shall we discuss…business?"

* * *

 _8:15 AM_

Trina opened her eyes to the smiling face of _Kataiahs_ , the tips of _his_ sharp teeth glistening in the sunshine peeking through the curtains. Those teeth did not frighten her in the least, as they did three years ago. Now, it was quite the opposite. She felt herself blush, remembering the thrill of them locked on her neck while _he_ took her from behind.

Staring into his eyes, she reached over and pulled _him_ into a kiss. Not something she had ever aspired to do three years ago either, but now something that made her happy. She had never considered happiness a major goal in life; she had been raised to place Clan above all else, and the people they ruled close behind. When her mother had sent her to Zootopia under the guise of 'assisting the Protector,' she had simply complied, never suspecting the Clan viewed her as a potential Matriarch, even less that the Protector would also be the one to approve her selection.

Nor, least of all, did she ever suspect she could feel so strongly about another mammal, let alone a…predator.

 _My lynx._

She felt _his_ arousal pressing against her; she wanted _him_ , too. It was absurd, she knew, even perverted by some mammals' standards, including hers when she had first arrived in this decadent city. Disappointingly, her internal clock said there was no time to explore this absurdity. Not much, anyway; there were advantages to rooming where you worked: No commute.

She lifted her leg and shifted her hips, slipping _him_ inside her with remarkable ease—she _really_ wanted _him_.

"Good morning, sir," she purred. _Her lynx_ groaned. "You have three appointments this morning," she reminded _him_ , gently rocking her hips. "Ten, eleven and one-thirty."

" _Please_ tell me you are joking," _he_ mumbled.

"Of course not, sir," she told _him_ seriously, her hips gently rocking. "Why would you think that?"

 _Her lynx_ took a deep breath. "The timing…"

"Oh!" she said, blushing. She slowed her motions. "This! We really don't have enough time for more, sir; I need to get ready, and the staff will be arriving soon. I just…wanted you..."

"Define 'enough' time," _he_ panted.

"I'd say no more than three minutes, sir," she said, mischievously.

It was long enough, with seconds to spare.

Trina ran naked to her room, carrying her things. She closed the door and stood with her back against it, panting heavily, with a giddy feeling making her want to open the window and shout out to the world with joy. In the back of her head, she knew that whatever happiness she felt now would only last until the Clan recalled her. If, that is, any of them were still alive. Her gut panged at the thought of her family and friends lying dead—or worse. But the despair she had felt only a day before at the prospect no longer held the sway over her emotions that it did. Something stronger had materialized to keep her spirits up and the fear away.

 _My lynx._

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; she reeked of _her lynx_. It was intoxicating, even sensual—but if she could smell _him_ , so would most of the staff! She rushed to the shower and thoroughly washed herself, reaching into every nook and cranny. She didn't count on her mind reliving how each spot she cleaned had picked up _his_ scent, so she barely had time to unlock the front door before the first staffer walked in carrying the morning's newspapers.

Trina had a busy schedule, which, this morning, she viewed under a whole different light. Now, she understood the need for her to review mountains of newspapers, having to clip out obscure articles for briefings, manage the office personnel, interview new hires (and fire employees who deserved it), make presentations on major social issues she found interesting, and the myriad other things she did that never made sense for a bunny in her official position.

But they made a lot of sense if one was being prepared to rule a nation. The endless (and fascinating, she thought) hours she and _her lynx_ had spent talking about international relations, the consequences of scientific discoveries, debating ramifications of the past on current events, diplomatic protocols (which _her lynx_ elaborated on with an extra serving of _his_ dry wit). _Her lynx_ had effectively been training her since the moment she walked in the door, all without her knowing it.

Maybe she was not as smart as _her lynx_ thought. Trina paused, about to pour a cup of coffee for _her lynx_. There. There it was, again.

 _My lynx._

Every time she thought about _him_ , butterflies twittered in her stomach.

 _My lynx._

 _'Oh, wonderful,'_ she thought. _'You just had to do it, Trina, didn't you? You just **had** to go and fall…in love with…with…a **predator**. You hussy!'_

 _Hussy? Where did that come from?_ She thought, pouring coffee into _his_ mug.

 _'You're supposed to marry a rabbit when you get back home, is where.'_

 _Yeah. Some brainless drone I've never even met. Whoopee._

 _'Father is not a drone!'_

She sighed, walking to _Kataiahs'_ _(Stop it!)_ office. _Yes, he is. He's a wonderful, loving, caring father. But he could never do Mother's job._

 _'But…a **predator**? He **eats** rabbits!'_

 _Hmmm_ , she thought, sensuously. _He sure does._

 _'Pervert!'_

She went into _Kataiahs'_ office and set the coffee mug on the desk. _He_ smiled warmly at her; she smiled back. _Oh, my! Mr. Lynx,_ she mused, blushing again at the memories, _what long, wonderful, teeth you have._ Turning and heading out the door, the most absurd objection came to her mind.

 _'He's too old for you!'_

Trina laughed at that, drawing an amused stare from the receptionist. The bunny picked up the stack of newspapers and magazines on the counter, then headed into her office. Time to get to work; it was going to be a _wonderful_ day!

* * *

 _8:16 AM_

Arthur sealed the _'Confidential—Eyes Only'_ package and signed the delivery authorization. His assistant took the package and would ensure it was on the next airship for Zootopia. Jack had bought into his story, flimsy as it was, but that would only hold with the support of the evidence, ambiguous at best, he had placed in the package.

He had wiped the drive on his workstation for good measure, but if that bitch showed up alive with his Carrot-pad…it would only be a matter of hours before everything came unraveled. Thankfully, he already had arrangements in place for that eventuality. He thought he might miss the kits, but infinitely less so than his freedom.

The grey fox next considered what to do about the Institute; it had become a loose end. While not technically illegal, what he had commissioned to have done under the funding and name of the Agency was unauthorized. He never would have received authorization for it, either; it was explicitly forbidden by all international treaties—the ones that never see the light of day. What would get him thrown into the darkest hole they could find for the rest of eternity (if he was lucky), however, was what he had done with the results.

Arthur had quietly lost most of his fortune in the last recession. What little had remained, he had squandered on expensive dates, more expensive gifts, and fast vixens. Yes, he really did, mostly, stay at home with Candace and the kits, nowadays, but that was because he could not afford his preferred alternative. He and Candace had come to an agreement, years ago, when they had realized they really could not stand each other. While never poor, his lifestyle demanded more than he earned, and Candace had (at one time) a near-unlimited trust fund that required she marry and produce offspring to carry on her family legacy. Her maiden name was Wolfram, of Wolfram Industries, the largest Defense contractor in the Commonwealth.

She was an attractive enough vixen, just, at best, completely indifferent to her husband, whose strong libido required an outlet she rarely provided, almost never since the last kits were born. Rather than give up her trust fund in a divorce, she had agreed to him seeking comfort where he could—as long as she had first-right of refusal; her (and all the other heirs', both male and female) trust fund also prohibited infidelity—couldn't have the Wolfram family name sullied by scandal, after all.

He was sure it was out of spite, but Candace always seemed to require servicing when he arrived home, spent after a tryst, which usually ended up with him being ridiculed at his inability to perform. Their happiest (to him) time was when she had wanted her second litter; she had been insatiable, amorous, funny, always looking her best, supportive…basically the ideal mate, and he had remained homebound for six months, enjoying his family, getting to know his wife again, never even thinking about any other vixen. When she finally got pregnant, she became even more amorous, then the kits were born…and it all came to a crashing halt, even worse than before. Nothing he could do was right anymore; she even criticized his breathing.

That's when he met Tonya. At first, it all seemed coincidence, as all honeytraps do, and he fell for it, hook, line and sinker. She was a doctorate student at the Institute, working on her thesis on high-energy physics. Arthur never even wondered what she was doing at the Snarlbuck's close to the Agency complex, which was all the way across town from the Institute. All he noticed was a voluptuous figure, gorgeous red fur, deliciously blue eyes and ever so bushy tail. And, most of all, that she was _interested_ in him. She found him fascinating from the moment she spilled her Tooty-Fruity-Chocolaty-Milk on him.

 _'How could I have been so stupid!'_ he thought. But what's done is done; as they say, no use crying over spilt milk. _'How desperate am I now, that I'm making puns?'_

She had drawn him deeper and deeper, or more properly, he had dug himself deeper and deeper. Their relationship escalated step by step; he wanted her, there was no question, but she led him along a path that opened his eyes to the wonders of love, something gapingly absent in his life. Sure, he loved his kits. But pure romance! That was never something he had experienced, nor considered necessary, or even desirable. Needless to say, he fell hard.

Never mind this young, PhD candidate always had the money to pay for everything; no, he could excuse that lapse, coming as he did from the circles of the wealthy. Never having struggled for money before his current troubles, he had never paid much consideration to how the rest of Mammaldom must live. But she never seemed to be studying or researching or doing any of the other things you might expect from someone trying to reach the top of their chosen academic field.

That didn't bother Arthur, either. She always had time for him, no matter what time of day or night. Whether he needed to rant about his dead-end marriage, go see a movie, just be in her presence, or whatever, she would always be there; she had even given him some good advice on how to save his marriage, though it only had a short-term effect; Candace wanted nothing to do with him anymore, and it had gotten to the point where she told him she preferred satisfying her own needs rather than even having him in the house.

That was when Tonya finally reeled him in. Her apartment was small, covered with notes and mathematical formulae on the walls, a cluttered desk with mock-ups of experiments, a sofa covered with empty pizza boxes and beer cartons. And a warm, cozy bed with wonderfully soft sheets.

She had brought him over, just as a friend, to cheer him up. Arthur was intrigued by all the stuff on the walls, so she took the time to explain her work and theories to him in terms he could understand. Her eyes lit up as she explained the possible benefits her work could bring to society and the fortune it would bring to the visionary who funded it. Arthur knew something about this, being privy to secret information Tonya had never seen (hah!) He also knew there were…military…applications for the technology, although development was prohibited. That was when he (hah, hah) decided he would find a way to fund her research. She had melted at his offer, and…regardless of whatever happened to him, Arthur would always remember that night. Never before had he experienced sex with someone he actually _loved_.

There was no escape for him after that.

Arthur barely went home a few hours every weekend to see the kits. The rest of the time, he stayed with Tonya. He violated years of training, protocol, and laws by revealing who he was and who he worked for; he began discussing 'office matters' with her; he began faking his polygraphs using the skills he had learned as a field agent. He began committing treason.

Tonya introduced Arthur to her team at the Institute. They were all ranking professors, from different departments, all working together, surprisingly, under her guidance, and she made sure to be the only one with a complete picture of the research. Other than Tonya, they were all foxes, male, middle aged, and (he found out much later) with troubled marriages—all in love with the same vixen, though they didn't know it. Arthur was the one Tonya needed to authorize the use and funding of the energy labs, so he was the 'lucky' one; without him, there was no project, so he got to bed the vixen. _Hooray_ …

Only by pure accident did Arthur become aware of the scam. Tonya had been absent for a week, saying she needed to visit her mother in Mountainview, when one of the professors grew alarmed at the results of the project, which Arthur didn't even know had been completed. The professor called Arthur directly and confessed to sleeping with the vixen the day before, following which, the prototype device had vanished. The professor innocently assumed Tonya had taken the device for testing, so his only concern was that the finished device did not seem capable of meeting the requirements they had discussed, mostly being able to power a small city.

The professor was worried because the device 'appeared unstable' by his calculations, which he had run through a simulation once he actually had the completed device in paw, and he wanted to run more simulations on the device before the actual test. When Arthur asked what he meant by 'unstable' the professor simply said, 'it could explode and take out the city.'

Arthur had thrown up in his trash can, knowing he had been played.

He told the professor not to worry; Arthur would take care of everything. As the group had all signed the standard NDAs and 'no-publish' clauses as part of the ZIA's research package with the Institute (everything was legitimate on paper—except for not being approved by the government) Arthur was not worried about anything leaking from that angle. But he needed to find Tonya. Fast. Without the ZBI or ZIA finding about it.

As luck would have it, he didn't have to look at all; she came to him.

With a white wolf.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **Feel free to send comments, etc., and, as always, thanks for reading!**

 **Until next time,**

 **Enjoy!**


	17. Failed Gambits

**Author's Note:**

 **Wow. 2000 views! Fantastic!**

 **This chapter has been a long stretch.  
**

 **Enjoy this next installment!**

* * *

 _Four Weeks Ago_

Arthur sat on the bed in the tiny studio apartment, alone in the dark, grimly contemplating the whims of fate. Without a doubt, the past few months had been the happiest of his life, and in some ways, even the most exciting. His years as a field agent, now a decade behind him, had also been exciting, but it was a different kind of excitement. Back then, it was the thrill of the hunt, a game of matching wits against opponents who respected you yet would still slit your throat if the chance presented itself. Arthur had excelled at that game, so much that it catapulted his career to his current exalted—and likely to end in prison—position of ZIA Operations Director.

He had so easily forgotten the many hard-learned lessons from those years in the field over a piece of tail. Well, not so much forgotten as ignored; he had noticed many signs, just didn't care, feeling so trapped, and miserable, and... insignificant with his current life, that he had jumped on the bait, willfully and gratefully. It was the excitement, he knew. Not the excitement of the hunt that had driven him as a field agent. No, this was the excitement of simply being alive! Of waking up each morning next to someone who…

Deceived you. _You're such a fool._

He laid down, looking out the window. His superb fox nose could still pick up the lingering scent from the last time they had made love. _Made love._ He laughed bitterly at the thought. He had never understood the term before he met Tonya, just that it was a euphemism for sex. Had she been faking her passion, just like Candace all these years? Just another tool to manipulate a stupid fox? Was it all—

The apartment door opened.

Tonya rushed in, looking far from her usual, attractive, self. She shut the door, locked it, then dashed straight into the small walk-in closet, never noticing Arthur. The light inside came on, followed by the hectic sounds of the vixen rummaging frantically through clothes and boxes, items flying out into the living area in the frenzy.

"Damnit!" she yelled in frustration, coming out of the closet and turning on the overhead lights to see Arthur sitting on the bed. She jumped back in surprise, giving a startled yip.

"Arthur!" she said, recovering. "You scared me to death! What are you doing here?"

"Is this a bad time?" he asked, putting concern in his voice. "You seem in a hurry."

"I-I have to go meet someone..." she began.

"Like, Professor Renard?" he asked calmly, proving to himself that he had definitely not forgotten his field skills; it took just one well-placed question while a subject was distracted by unexpected stressors, and their true emotions became plainly visible on their face. Tonya's face showed no remorse, no shame, no... anything. Except contempt, that was replaced by sorrow—just a little too late. Arthur still excelled at this game, and his blinders had been viciously kicked off. The vixen fell to her knees crying; if you knew what to look for, which Arthur did, you knew it was fake.

"Oh, Arthur," she sobbed, "can you e-ever forgive me?"

"Just tell me why, Tonya?" he asked, catching a sob of his own in his throat. _Might as well play along_. "What can he give you that I can't?"

"N-nothing, Arthur" she cried. "I-I had to...He...I…I'm in trouble. Th-they threatened m-my family." She was good, he had to admit. Arthur ran to her, taking her in his arms.

"Why didn't you come to me?" he cried, giving her a fierce hug. "You know I can help."

She nuzzled his chest, sniffling. "I could never ask you to compromise yourself," she said, completely ignoring how much she already had. This was called 'building up your mark's righteousness': Making him feel he had not done anything wrong yet, so he would overlook whatever you wanted to ask next as inconsequential in comparison. "I would never hurt you, Arthur; you're so good. I-I feel like a whore!" _Wow is she pouring it on! But, maybe..._

"Hush," he said, gently rubbing her back and nuzzling her neck. "Don't say that. I'm sure whatever happened wasn't your choice. The vixen I love would never do anything to hurt me." _I'll see your drama and raise you hope._

"Y-you love me?" she whispered. Not letting down, Arthur unleashed his most disarming smile, one he had spent years perfecting.

"I love you, Tonya," he said, calling on the feelings he remembered having before she left. "Thinking you might never come back made me realize how much I need you; that I had never told you how I really feel. I thought, maybe that was why you left, two weeks ago."

Arthur was ecstatic; the vixen practically melted in his arms as he brought her lips to his in a passionate kiss. The vixen responded about as he expected, embracing him tightly as he lifted her up and took her to the bed, though he was seriously worried that his current mindset would quench his desire and blow his acting performance.

He hated to gamble; he was not good at it, as his current financial condition attested to. He liked to stack as much as possible in his favor before making a move, but he tossed that all out the window as he undid his belt and pulled down his trousers, letting them drop to his ankles. His gamble paid off: Tonya knelt in front of him, making his worries moot with her mouth. It had been over two weeks for Arthur, so it didn't take long.

Finished, Tonya stood up, nuzzling his chest. "I know I hurt you, Arthur," she said. "Can you forgive me?"

"Of course I—" Arthur heard the tiny creak outside and was moving before the apartment door flew off its hinges, bits of the door frame and door lock spraying in all directions. He pushed Tonya onto the bed and grabbed his gun from under the pillow where he had hidden it, darting two white leopards in quick succession as they leaped into the room, their unconscious bodies landing hard on the floor. His thumb flipped the setting on his gun to lethal, but no one else came through.

The sound of clapping came from the hall outside the apartment. "You truly are one of the best," called out a voice admiringly.

"Nice to be appreciated," Arthur responded. "Do you want more than to test my reflexes?"

"Of course," came the voice. "I have a proposition for you, Mr. Foxworth."

Arthur cast a glance at Tonya, who desperately shook her head. A dull thud and rolling sound followed, then Arthur saw the tuna-can shape of a remote-controlled anti-personnel device roll and spin to a stop less than a foot away, blinking menacingly.

"Come, now, Mr. Foxworth," said the voice, reasonably. "I let you enjoy your time with Miss Ryzhaya. Have the courtesy to hear me out. What have you got to lose?"

"You have me at a disadvantage," Arthur called. "How should I call you?"

"Shall I come in, then, so we can talk? I am unarmed."

"I don't think my fiancée really wants you in the apartment," Arthur said. He heard Tonya's sharp, in-drawn breath at the word 'fiancée.' Her eyes could have told him how much turmoil she felt, but he kept his eyes—and gun—trained on the door. _One game at a time._

"Well, well! Congratulations are in order," said the voice. "But, how will your wife take the news, I wonder?"

Arthur laughed. "With champagne, I'd bet," he said. An enormous white wolf stepped into the apartment, smiling, with his paws in the air.

"Lord Belyiklyk," Arthur said with a slight nod. "A pleasure to finally meet you."

"Can you imagine how surprised I was," the wolf said, sitting on the sofa, "when Miss Ryzhaya told me Arthur Foxworth was sharing her bed?"

Arthur reached down for his clothes. "Not very much," he said, stepping into his briefs, "if your sources are any good—she is an amazing vixen."

"She is, indeed, Mr. Foxworth," the wolf said with a smile, smugly eying the vixen. "I personally made sure she was. May I call you Arthur?"

Arthur fastened his belt, then straightened his clothes. "Seeing as we share the same tastes in vixens," he said with a shrug, catching out the corner of his eye the angry expression on Tonya's face, knowing their game was over. "I don't see why not, Octavio. How is the Lady Chia, by the way? Is she still in the Commons? She must be getting anxious," Arthur said with concern. "It's been, what? Over a year? There are some good fertility doctors in Zootopia, you know. I would be happy to recommend one." Arthur smiled innocently while Octavio's legendary temper tried to assert itself.

"Let's skip the pleasantries, Arthur," Octavio said through gritted teeth. "Miss Ryzhaya has something that belongs to me."

"What a coincidence," Arthur said, sitting down on the bed. "She does seem to have a bad habit of borrowing things that don't belong to her."

"A habit that can get a mammal killed," Octavio assured. "But I'm a reasonable fellow, Arthur; all I want is what Miss Ryzhaya…borrowed…from me."

Arthur tousled Tonya's ears. "Is that what you were looking for?" he said to the vixen. He turned to Octavio. "I'm afraid there's nothing here," he said, apologetically. "I wasn't sure when Tonya would be coming back, so I took the liberty of…storing…her valuables until I saw her again. Perhaps if I'd known they belonged to someone else…"

"Quite understandable," Octavio said, waving his paw. "These things happen—which brings me back to where we started: I have a proposition for you."

"I'm also a reasonable mammal," Arthur said, "always willing to listen." The snow leopards began to stir, so he flipped the setting on his gun and darted them again.

"What do you have that I want?" Arthur asked.

"I was thinking more in terms of what _you_ have that _I_ want," Octavio told him. "You see, I've always been interested in your stock market; Aurora doesn't have anything like it, as I am sure you are aware." Arthur smiled. "I began to wonder what it must be like to venture into such an interesting game," the wolf continued. "I've always enjoyed new experiences. And this 'investment' game seems quite exciting."

"Yes," Arthur admitted. "It can be quite addictive. It's also a good way lose your shirt."

"Certainly," Octavio mused. "There is always risk in any venture. But I am not one who considers risk something to avoid. I find it quite exhilarating, don't you?"

"When the reward justifies it," Arthur said. "So, what do I have that you want?"

"Why, I wish to purchase some stock," Octavio said, innocently. "I am told it is not illegal to buy from private parties—I really want to avoid those expensive broker fees."

"You want to buy stock," Arthur said. "From me."

"Well, you seem like a trustworthy mammal," Octavio said smoothly. "Are you, Arthur? A trustworthy mammal?"

"I try to be, Octavio. I try," Arthur told the wolf. "But I don't have any stocks to sell."

"Nonsense," Octavio dismissed. "You own 175,000 preferred shares of Brownstone Enterprises."

"Brownstone?"

"I'll give you 53 dollars a share," Octavio offered enticingly. "For the whole stake, of course." Arthur simply stared. This would put him in the black—and then some. BWE was trading at $1.28; he had bought at $35.76, before the bottom fell out of the market a few years earlier and practically bankrupted him.

"That's a very generous offer, Octavio," he said. "And in return?"

"I just want what is mine, Arthur," Octavio said. "The flash drive. Nothing more."

 _Can't duplicate the device, eh?_ Arthur thought. "What guarantees do I have it won't come back to harm the Commonwealth?"

"Arthur, Arthur," the wolf said, shaking his head. "The Empire has many enemies, but the Commonwealth is not yet one of them. We have many other, more pressing, threats to deal with—not to mention, you could start the project again with little effort to retaliate."

"And Tonya?" asked Arthur. He really hated to gamble. "I was hoping I could truly get to know her now."

"Consider her a bonus," Octavio said magnanimously. "But I wouldn't trust her if I were you." He looked hard at the vixen. "You owe Arthur your life; do not make me regret sparing it." To Arthur he said, "I should have the appropriate paperwork drawn up by tomorrow. I presume you can have everything ready?"

 _'It's treason!'_ he thought.

 _Only if they catch you._

"We have a deal," Arthur said. "I'll pay for the door."

* * *

 _Five weeks ago._

Hands on the bathroom sink, Tonya stared at herself in the mirror, disgusted. On the other side of the closed door, Professor Renard began snoring loudly, making the vixen nauseous enough to lose her dinner in the toilet. She stepped into the shower and turned the water as hot as she could, then scrubbed herself with the stiff fur brush until she felt she would bleed.

At least Arthur was sweet. At nearly twice her age, he considered himself a very lucky fox for having met her. Why didn't he just divorce Candace, anyway? He complained constantly about her, with ample grounds for it. Tonya could even picture herself falling for the dashing fox if he would just…grow a pair.

Did he even have any feelings for her other than as a warm bed partner? She was well briefed on Arthur's history, so probably not, she thought. But he was an excellent lover, as expected, and she did enjoy that aspect of the assignment.

She stepped out of the shower, feeling better about herself. Standing before the mirror once more, she took the time to consider how much better her life really was away from the North. At least now she had the freedom to pick her own lovers...most of the time. And, soon, she would be truly free.

She went back into the bedroom for her clothes, thinking about all the ways she could castrate the snoring professor. Putting those thoughts aside, she dressed quickly, and quietly headed to Renard's lab. The device rested on a workbench, trailing wires from the various test ports to a workstation from where the professor was running his simulation. Walking in on the slovenly tod working earlier that evening had been what led her to submit to the despicable fox. She growled in anger at having to consent to the degrading acts that...that...pervert demanded.

But she needed to get the device away from the meddling prig without killing him. Otherwise, the data from the simulation would reveal the device's true purpose, and she had to prevent that at any cost. She placed the device in its' carrying case, which looked like a wheeled carry-on travel bag. Tonya didn't have a true sense of personal pride, something beaten out of her early in her life. If she had, her contributions to the project—she really was a PhD candidate—might keep her from doing what she was doing; few take pride in their work being used for evil. As it were, this was simply another task she had to complete or be punished for. Harshly punished.

The vixen called a cab on her way out of the building. She had an airship to catch; they were waiting for her at the safe house in Zootopia, and afterwards, she had to return quickly to set up her future.

She was in a hurry, so she never noticed the well-dressed lynx casually strolling behind her.

* * *

 _About four weeks ago_

The exchange went smoothly that morning, taking place out in the open at one of Plainsville's many sidewalk cafes, nothing looking even remotely illegal. Just the sale of some stock certificates with the associated paperwork for signature. The documents on the flash drive would pass as the expected encrypted digital copies of the paperwork. Afterwards, Arthur and Tonya spent the rest of the day making love in the vixen's apartment.

Now late afternoon, Arthur lay sleeping at last and Tonya came out of the shower, eager to get on with her life. She had copies of the documents Arthur had passed to Octavio, and a buyer of her own lined up for later that evening. All that remained between her and the life she dreamed of was the tod sleeping blissfully on her bed. He would never leave Candace, she knew, nor would he let Tonya go her own way with the documents. She felt sad that it had to be this way, but at least she would send him off on a high note.

She made her way casually towards the bed, her gun well hidden in the towel wrapped around her midriff. She sat down, letting the towel drop, the gun smoothly coming into in her paw and quickly going to Arthur's forehead.

 _Click_.

"Guess Octavio was right," Arthur said with disappointment, bringing his gun from under the pillow and shooting the surprised vixen between the eyes.

* * *

 _One month ago_

The clouds suddenly crowded together as the wind picked up, hiding the faint light from the thin sliver that was the moon from the two ZPD officers strolling paw-in-paw down the sidewalk.

"Looks like it's going to rain," Nick said.

"Is this from the same mammal who told me the moon was an airship?" Judy asked with a smile.

"Not my fault it looks like one," he said, defensively.

"Only to a city-slicker," she teased, poking his ribs and making him squirm.

"Tickling an officer is a serious offense, Miss," he said, wriggling.

"Are you going to report me, officer?" Judy said, poking him some more.

The radio on Nick's utility belt chimed. "One-Zorro-one-three," crackled Clawhauser's voice, "Report 10-20."

"One-Zorro-one-three," Nick answered cheerfully; he loved their patrol call sign. "We're at...1453 Westorhey. Hey Spots, why you up so late?"

"Wingberd called in sick," Clawhauser said. "We have a 10-62 two blocks from you on 1237 Westorhey. Ace Security reports a new alarm installed at location today. They request a courtesy walk-bye; they're covering the convention tonight and can't respond."

The couple only had another twenty minutes on their shift. Responding to a breaking-and-entering would put them over for the week. Nick looked at Judy, futilely, of course. As always, she was in.

"10-4," Nick called in, speeding up to a jog with Judy following at first, then passing him. Sure. Might as well get a workout out of it. "One-Zorro-one-three en-route." He put the radio back on his belt. "Showoff!" he yelled at his mate.

"This is a job for the police!" she called back.

"Grandstanding bunny!"

"Lazy fox!"

They were in an area of larger properties, though it was not an affluent neighborhood, many of the buildings unoccupied or only used during the day. As they approached the address in question, they slowed and stopped. Years of working together had fostered a routine between the two that had become second nature. Judy went into listening mode and Nick into sniffing mode.

Judy stood still, scanning around with her ears straight up while Nick padded softly on all fours with his nose to the ground. He picked up fresh scents near the building, going up the four steps to the door. He looked over at Judy who nodded that she had picked up sounds coming from inside.

Judy keyed her radio in silent mode, letting Clawhauser know there really was a BE in progress and that they would be entering the premises to investigate. They went up the steps to find the door unlocked, never a good sign, but better than broken or with obvious signs of tampering. They opened the door into a foyer with another door leading to the inside proper. Nick signaled the scent was fresh, so they pulled out their dart guns. From below the inner door, they saw the lights were on inside; at least they would not need their flashlights. From the outside, the sound of rain started up, followed by the far-off drone of thunder.

Nick wiggled his eyebrows at Judy in a silent told-you-so. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Time to go in.

Nick slowly opened the door so his smaller (thus easier to enter undetected) mate could go in first. She dashed across to a staircase, listening, then pointed down the way. Nick acknowledged, entering cautiously and advancing in the direction Judy showed. He reached an archway leading to what looked like a large living room.

Judy came to him, scanning all around her with her weapon at ready and saw a camera on the ceiling staring down at them; she would have to remember asking for the tapes. She shook her head at Nick to say she heard nothing, then her ears steered behind her and she pointed to the steps, signing she would go up alone to check.

Nick didn't like it, but knew Judy could take care of herself, so he nodded and got a quick peck on the cheek for his vote of confidence. He smiled, covering her as she went up the stairs, then went into the living room, tripping over someone's extended foot while getting a musty sack thrown over his head and tied around his neck.

"Please stay down, officer," whispered a refined voice into his ear. "You and your wife are such a lovely couple; I would truly hate to make her a widow. You have given this city so much hope that you deserve a long life together. Even those die-hards down in Bunnyburrow realize you two are just the beginning. I have great hopes for you."

Nick heard the doors leading outside open one after another. Pulling off the sack, he yelled for Judy to come down, then ran outside after whoever had ambushed him, raindrops pelting down all around him. He ran furiously after the fleeing shadow, occasionally highlighted by the short flashes of lighting sparking distantly in the darkness.

Surprisingly, he was falling behind. He forced himself to concentrate, shutting out everything but the sound of his running footsteps splashing water loudly into the night. Barely maintaining the disance between them, he saw the hooded figure ahead turn effortlessly off the main street into an alley—he even seemed to be dragging something heavy along.

 _'No way I ever live that down,'_ Nick thought, pushing himself to go even faster. He heard Judy yelling from the building far behind him, but he was already turning the corner into the alley…and went skidding off the slippery sidewalk into the street, barely catching himself with an outstretched paw, and looked up. . . right into the dripping muzzle of a gun. Nick swallowed.

"Decide to give up?" he panted.

"I have no quarrel with you, fox," declared the hooded mammal with his refined accent. Feline fingers closed on the trigger, the faint click of the lever reaching its first stop coming through louder than the droning thunder.

"However," continued the lynx, now outlined dramatically as the sky suddenly flashed, "if you persist in following me, you will leave me no choice but to put you down." The crescendo of sound following the returning darkness accentuated the finality of the statement.

 _'You've got to be kidding me,'_ said Nick's impudent inner voice. _'How does he **do** that?_'

"Nice special effects," Nick quipped. "But you know how it goes: Perps run, we follow."

"Too bad," came the wearied reply from the lynx as he shot the fox in the chest, the impact launching the tod back onto the main road.

Mere seconds behind, Judy heard the gunshot and saw her mate flying through the air like a rag doll onto the main street.

"NIIIICK!" she screamed, reaching for her radio. "OFFICER DOWN! OFFICER DOWN! CLAWHAUSER! HELP ME! PLEASE! NICK'S DOWN!" Judy reached her mate at the intersection, her weapon drawn, set for lethal, and she, looking for a target. There was no sign of the perp. Tears streaming down her face, she stood guard over her unconscious mate, shielding him from the rain as best she could. Blood oozed from his nose and mouth, but his vest had taken the brunt of the impact; there was a huge indentation where he'd taken the hit. But no bullet.

Before long, sirens and flashing lights approached from all directions.

* * *

 _Three weeks ago_

Skye sat patiently alone in the reception area. It wasn't long before the nurse called her name.

"Miss Skye?" the zebra called out pleasantly. "The doctor will see you, now."

She led the vixen to the examination room, where she underwent the usual routine of taking off her clothes and donning the thin examination gown. The doctor soon came in.

"Ah, Miss Skye," he greeted her. "You look lovely as ever."

"I bet you say that to all the naked females," she said, smiling.

"Yes, but I really mean it with you," he said slyly. "What brings you here today, dear? Your annual isn't due for another three months."

"I…well…it's…"

"Ah. I see," he chided. "I thought we had agreed you would use the prescription I gave you."

"I do…mostly…there isn't always time," she said bashfully.

"Then you need to stop using latex products," he told her frankly. "You are still seeing that rabbit fellow, I assume?"

"I'm not 'seeing' Jack," she protested. "He's just…my best friend; I'm not 'seeing' him. He doesn't have anyone else—I'm definitely not 'seeing' him."

"Just stop using latex products when your 'not seeing' him, then," he told her.

"But what if…"

"You—fox. Him—rabbit," he told her. "Oil—water. No mix-mix. We've had this talk many times, Miss Skye."

"What if I'm…seeing someone?" she posed.

"Are you?"

"No…" she said. "But, what if?"

"You can take pills, you know."

"They make me bloat up," she objected. The doctor thought for a while.

"I do have something that might work," he said pensively. "Ever hear of contraceptive implants?"

"Are they safe?"

"Absolutely," he assured her. "I have some new ones that are 99.9999% effective."

"I meant, is that 'safe'?" she asked, skeptically. "I'm not ready for kits."

"About as safe as not having sex," he deadpanned.

"I'll take it," she said. "Wait…the ones I've seen leave a huge bump under the skin."

"These new ones don't; they're not subcutaneous," he said, pulling out some literature for her from his desk. "They do require a short procedure under local anesthetic, though."

She read through the pamphlets quickly. "Can you do it today?" she asked.

"You're my last appointment, and it only takes thirty minutes," he told her. "But insurance doesn't cover it." He winked. "It's not expensive. Get Jack to pay for it; he'll be the one 'not seeing' the benefits."

Skye smiled. "Let's do it."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **There you have it. I will admit, this has been the most difficult chapter to write yet.**

 **I re-wrote it three times, with three different endings.**

 **Tonya almost became her own story arc, Arthur almost became a good guy.**

 **Let me know your thoughts. I can always re-write it a fourth time...**

 **Until next time, thanks for reading!**


	18. Convergence Begins

**Author's Note:**

 **I was hoping to get this out earlier, but didn't quite have the time.**

 **Enjoy this installment!**

* * *

 _10:00 AM_

Judy sighed, running her paw through Nick's fur. The naked red fox was on his back, his equally naked mate on top of him with her head resting on his chest, his paws gently stroking her ears. His tail curled up between their legs, tenderly swathing his bunny as they lay joined together in their 'mandatory cuddle time' after lovemaking.

Their session had been intense, driven by their mutual need to both give and receive comfort. The couple were in the usual second-story suite reserved for them at the Big mansion, having gone up after breakfast to rest before Mr. Big returned that afternoon from his…business meeting…with the raccoons. Neither had given much thought to having sex, which somehow progressed from a simple hug to both ravaging each other on the floor, naked, until Nick finally carried Judy to the bed, which was much more comfortable than the hardwood floor.

"What are we going to do, Nick?" Judy murmured.

"Just wait," Nick assured her. "It usually goes down by itself unless you start wiggling your tail."

She slapped him playfully. "Har, har," she said, wiggling her tail. "How did I let you talk me into this?"

"I don't recall much talking, Officer," he said.

"I see," she said. "So, more talk, less sex…"

"Makes Nick a dull fox," he told her, groaning. "Please don't do that if you want to get up anytime soon."

"Promises, promises," she teased, wiggling her hips. Her motions had the unexpected consequence of rubbing Nick's fluffy tail across a very sensitive spot between her own tail and buttocks, and soon Judy was earnestly swaying her hips, starting intensely at her mate with an adorable look of surprise on her face.

"See what I mean, Officer?" he told her slyly, his knot firming up.

"Bite me," she panted.

"Just re—" he started.

"Shut up and bite me," she repeated urgently. Nick's eyebrows went up in understanding. Growling in delight, he took loving hold of his mate's neck with his jaws, the feel of his sharp teeth against her skin making her shiver with pleasure while she diligently brought them both over the edge. Soon, they lay panting, Nick's tail wrapped over his mate once more.

Judy sighed, running her paw through Nick's fur. "What are we going to do, Nick?" she murmured.

"I hate to sound like a broken record," he whispered, "but it usually—" She pinched his fur.

"Goofball," she said, giggling. "You always know how to make me laugh."

"Well, we can't let you bunnies get too emotional, you know," he said, stroking her ears. He kissed her. "Don't worry; it's all gonna to be fine."

"Since when are you the optimist?" she said.

"Hey, we're at the bottom, Fluff," he said, encouragingly. "Nowhere to go but up."

"But, the apartment," she lamented. "All our stuff…"

"All I need is _right here_ ," he told her, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"I love you, Nick," she purred. "You know that?"

"Do I?" he said, with a frown, then smiled. "Yes. Yes, I do."

"You think Skye is OK?" his mate asked suddenly.

"She's fantastic," Nick said, enthusiastically. "Great—" Judy pinched him.

"Har, har," she said. "Seriously."

"Listen, Fluff," he said. "When I have a beautiful, naked bunny lying on my chest, impaled on my knot, I'm not thinking about other females."

"Impaled?"

"Sounds more impressive," he said. "A fox's gotta keep up his self-image, you know."

"Oh, certainly, Mr. Fox," she said vacuously.

"Ouch," he said, wincing. "So much for my self-image." Judy laughed.

"A doe's gotta keep her mate's head a manageable size," she said.

"Easier to buy hats," Nick admitted. "I can see that."

"Back to Skye," Judy said. "What's up with her and Antonio?"

"I'm not really sure," he said. "That last time I saw her, everything was fine. To be honest, Fluff, the biggest problem between them was me."

"What a surprise," she teased. "So, what was it? Did you two…?"

"She was fourteen, Fluff," he protested. "I was her bodyguard."

"You? A bodyguard? I thought you were her tutor, or something."

"Nope," he said, preening just a bit. "Antonio wanted someone about her age to make sure she stayed out of trouble." He smiled. "And, mammals! Was she trouble."

"What did you do? Follow her around school and stuff?" Judy asked. "She must have been in high school then."

"Cynthia was home-schooled," Nick told her, bitterly. "Mixed-species families did not enjoy the level of 'toleration' they do, nowadays."

"That must have been tough," she said. "Did she have any friends—besides her trouble-making bodyguard?"

"Oh, she had lots of friends," he assured his mate. "A whole pack of them by the amount of trash I had to pick up after they got together. Even back then she was a tod-magnet; adorably innocent for certain, but still a shameless flirt charming everyone to get her way. I was the stoic bodyguard who…tried…to keep things from getting out of hand." He laughed. "Those first few months, I thought I would strangle her."

"What changed?" Judy asked, nestling more comfortably on Nick's chest now that his knot had released; they were going to need a shower. And clean sheets.

"A brand new club opened up," he recollected. "And rumor was they didn't card their patrons."

"For real?"

"Oh, yeah," he told her. "The cops didn't care; the ZPD wasn't what it is today. You could, literally, get away with murder back then."

"It's hard to imagine," Judy said. "Is the club still around?"

"Ohhhh, yes," he said. "Frisky Kitties."

"Sweet cheese and crackers!"

"Little Cynthia—she was much shorter then—talked some punk high-school senior into taking her there."

"You let her go?" she asked, incredulously.

"She climbed out her second-floor window," Nick explained. "Fortunately, I had made a habit of randomly checking in on her. When I found her room empty with the window open, I had a good idea of where she was going and went after her."

"Did you get there in time?"

"Not to keep them from getting in, no. But I did get there before things got too serious when they tried to leave…almost."

"Almost?" Judy asked. Nick smiled.

"They'd shaved the tod," he said, "and were beating him up pretty bad, too, by the time I arrived. They were holding Cynthia down, getting ready to start on her. It was close, Fluff. But they knew who I was—there was only one stunningly handsome black fox in the city—and who I worked for. They were actually pretty grateful to me for preventing the war that would have started if they'd hurt Cynthia."

"What happened?"

"I asked for a favor," he said. "I had this stupid idea how to get Cynthia to listen to me once and for all." He shook his head and frowned. "I asked them to make it look like I was rescuing her."

"Guess it worked," Judy said.

"My best performance ever," he told her. "Dashing hero to the rescue, trouncing not one, nor two, but three panthers all by himself!" Judy laughed.

"Wish I could have been there," she said, nuzzling him. "You could probably do it for real, now."

"Maybe if two of them were on crutches," he said wryly. "Problem was, Cynthia fell for it. Hard." He sighed. "I was her hero after that. Her knight in shining armor."

"Yeah," Judy said. "At that age, I would have, too. Of course, I was a tombuck. I wanted so hard to be a cop, I would have been really impressed if anyone did rescue me."

"Cynthia wanted to be a writer," Nick recalled. "She was pretty good, too. Kinda hard to believe she turned into a spy."

"So, what happened that you two parted ways?" she asked. "Don't get me wrong, Nick. I like her a lot, but I won't say I'm disappointed you did." Her lavender eyes said it all: _My fox._ Kissing her, a possessive rumble in his throat answered her gaze. _My bunny._ Content, Judy lay her head down.

"I had a big fight with Antonio," he went on. "Cynthia had been getting very...affectionate with me. I was too stupid to notice, but Antonio wasn't; he didn't approve. He had hired a new tutor, a fox, for Cynthia, but something about that tod rubbed my fur against the grain. The way he looked at her was... wrong, and I told Antonio to get rid of him. He accused me of being jealous over her and that it was time I had something else to do, so he sent me away-or, rather, Koslov dragged me away screaming." Nick sighed.

"I begged the big guy over and over to go check on Cynthia, and eventually he listened." A tear rolled down Nick's eye. "It was too late," he said, anguished. "That bastard fox had raped her by the time Koslov got back."

"Oh, Nick!" Judy hugged her mate tightly, understanding now what she had witnessed at the ZPD during their first meeting with the vixen.

"Koslov told me later what he found when he got back," Nick went on. "She is certainly Antonio's daughter. Beaten to an inch of her life, she still managed to get a hold of the knife the prick had used to threaten her and cut off his privates while they were knotted."

"Sweet cheese and crackers!"

"That's one way to speed up the process, I guess," he said morbidly. "Koslov came in the room to find Cynthia, battered and covered in blood, huddled in a corner and a dead fox on the sofa with his privates stuffed up his muzzle."

"Blueberries in jam!"

" 'Blueberries in jam' ?" he quizzed; she pinched him. "Ow! At any rate, the next morning, Antonio sent her away to a boarding school in Northmarsh. I never even got the chance to say goodbye." He took a deep breath. "I stopped working for Antonio after that; he didn't seem very disappointed to lose my services. A couple of years later, I was told she had been killed when rebels took over the school and started shooting students during the revolution up there."

Judy sighed. "I remember that," she said. "It was my Freshman year in high school. Bunnyvision News was just starting up and gave the rebels live coverage just to trump ZNN; they even got an award that year for their uncensored reporting of the whole thing. I couldn't believe they were showing kids getting their brains blown out on live TV. Only time I ever heard Dad swear."

"What about the first time he caught us kissing?" Nick asked with a smile. "Those were some pretty explicit words, if I recall correctly."

"That's different," Judy said. "Your paws were up my shirt and mine were down your pants. I can overlook that time since he didn't bring out the fox tazer."

"Good point," he conceded with a yawn. "We should get some rest before Antonio gets back. It promises be an interesting get-together."

"I need a shower first," she said. Then, with a wink, "Come on; I'll let you wash my tail." Nick growled and carried her to their bathroom.

* * *

 _10:02 AM_

Skye stretched out luxuriously on the bed, then her paws flew to her muzzle in surprise as the last few minutes replayed themselves in her head. She hadn't done _that_ with herself since she was a teenager!

Uncle Koslov had carried her to the room next to Nicky and Judy's, setting her on the bed to get some rest. It was, tactfully enough, not her old room at the other end of the house. She'd always wondered how they would clean it up after...

The polar bear had told her Papa simply ordered the room boarded up as a permanent reminder he had failed to keep his family safe. Something he'd vowed to never let happen again.

 _Sure_.

Too many emotions were dancing in her head, so at first, she dismissed the sound as a bag falling to the floor. But the sounds that followed, however muffled they might be, were more than familiar to the vixen. She had smiled, picturing what Nicky and Judy could be up to. Then the image changed, with Nicky again in black fur, doing those same delightful things to her, and her paws began taking all sorts of liberties with her heated flesh. They kept eager pace with the couple on the other side of the wall, then the picture in her mind changed once more.

Jack was with her, his familiar spicy scent in her nose, the touch of his paws, his whispers in her ear, and she fell off the edge into bliss.

 _Her bunny._

' _My bunny? Since when is Jack more than a friend? Sure, we bump tails occasionally...maybe frequently...closer to a lot—OK, usually more than once a day. But that's a far cry from him being 'my' bunny, isn't it? It's not like we're seeing each other, or anything. For mammal's sake, knowing Jack, he probably spent the night at Kim's or Casey's or Eloise's without even giving me a second thought; he knows I can take care of myself, after all._ '

On the other side of the wall, Nicky and Judy went at it, again. This time, the images in Skye's head were of Jack with that over-bosomed Casey, then Jack with that cow-hipped Kim, then Jack with that over-friendly Eloise. Her stomach shrank to the size of a grape.

 _It's not fair!_

' _Not fair? That Jack has relationships with other females besides you? Of his own species? Geez, Louise, you have issues! Whose fault that you only have a string of one-night stands with your own kind? You used to blame Nicky for that: He set the bar by which you measured all foxes-all males, even._ '

 _Until My Bunny met that bar and became your new standard._

' _Damnit, vixen! Just what are you going to do? Confess your love to Jack with some tod's kits growing in your belly? Are you even sure you love him? Can you even be true to him?_ '

 _My bunny!_

' _Maybe being pregnant isn't so bad; look at Nicky and Judy: In every single one of the interviews they give, that is their only regret. No kits. This—maybe, vixen. Remember the test was inconclusive—pregnancy was not something you planned or wanted. Quite the contrary; it is close to a medical impossibility!_ '

She could approach Jack with absolute honesty and a clean conscience about her intentions.

' _What intentions? What do you want, Cynthia?_ '

 _My bunny!_

' _Are you ready to get out of the field?_ '

 _My Bunny's the better field agent, anyway; I can just be his boss. I'm better at that by far._

' _And if he doesn't love you? Is Jack still capable of loving another mammal? You were there, vixen; you know his past. What if he just doesn't love you?_ '

 _My bunny. My bunny. My bunny!_

' _You're worse than a damn schoolkit!_ '

Enough. She grabbed her bag lying next to the bed, digging through it until she found the small plastic blister-pack with the two yellow capsules. She stared at the pills, remembering the words of the old ox:

 _"You have a few days," he told her. "If you still think you can't be a mother, swallow those."_

 _'Are you ready to be a mother?'_ Skye asked herself, also remembering the conversation with her ex-friend the day before.

 _"Devotion is fine, mammal," Lila said. "But it won't fill the nursery."_

What a flippant reply she had made to that point! So easy to do when it was nothing more than a theoretical exercise!

 _"There is more to life than kits, you know."_

 _Yes, I know: My bunny._

' _But, does he want your kits?_ '

 _Do You?_

Skye curled up on the bed and tried her best not to cry; she missed her bunny.

* * *

 _11:00 AM_

Chief Bogo put the phone down with a frustrated sigh. He really hated mornings like this. First, a dozen ZBI agents dropped in for some 'friendly snooping' after the reports started flooding in from Plainsville concerning agent Skye, wanting to know about the vixen's visit to the station a couple of days ago.

They had brought with them something the water buffalo had never seen before: a dead-or-alive warrant for the vixen's arrest. Mayor Lionheart had been forced to sign it to maintain cover, but at least the Chief knew she was safe. As long as no one slipped up, all should be fine, and he didn't expect Mr. Big to slip up with his daughter's life on the line. The Arctic shrew took family seriously—as a couple of raccoons found out earlier this morning.

Then, he'd had to chew out, in public, the two officers on hospital duty over that not-so-unexpected visit. The officers were veterans who knew his heart hadn't been in it; they took the heat knowing there would be no real consequences. Bogo snorted; he wouldn't have been surprised if they'd helped with the 'questioning.' The WildeHopps were very popular, so much that half the ZPD had already volunteered to assist with the couple's funeral—another mess in the making.

He had a police department to run and dealing with this ZIA dung heap was taking too much of his time. Demonstrations were on the rise, both for _and_ against 'the establishment.' Petty crime was on the rise for the first time in years. Violent crime was also up, thankfully not OC related, and he'd even seen a white paper from one of Lionheart's think tanks floating the idea that all this chaos was just a distraction. All while his two best officers were tagged out of the police game, romping across the Commonwealth with the ZIA.

Yeah. He hated mornings like this.

Now, he had to deal with a body that had just washed up on the shore. Right in the middle of Outback Island's only kitty beach during the annual, live-televised Kit's Day festival.

"Clawhauser!"

* * *

 _11:10 AM_

Jack's stomach growled. He picked up the phone to call Cynthia and grab an early lunch, then remembered she wasn't there. Frustrated, he slammed the phone down, looking out into the bullpen area to see if Matilda was around, just in time to see Kurt and Blackwell come in. The two agents made a beeline to his office, not even greeting anyone along the way.

Without a word, Ramstein and Leone fell in behind the other two, Matilda taking point and leading them into Jack's office. Ramstein took position outside the door and Leone in front of the window. Matilda closed the door.

"What the bloody hell happened over there?" Jack blurted out to Kurt.

"We got her out, sir," the bobcat replied proudly. "The WildeHopps did a first-class job."

"There was a bloody firefight!" Jack yelled.

"They took some potshots at us," Blackwell said. "We hosed them down with the mini-guns; they dove for cover. Not much of a firefight, sir."

"Lucky for you, no one got hurt," Jack scolded him.

"Actually, sir, it was good aim," Kurt said. "Luck was Nick getting there before they did; that fox can run." Jack glared at him.

"Just ask what you're dying to ask, Jack," Matilda prodded the buck. "Leave the mammals in peace; they a did great job and had a long couple of days." Jack's ears flopped down his back.

"Is she OK?" he asked, worriedly.

"She's hurt, sir," Blackwell said. "Popped her knee out, got banged a bit up from hiding under a sewer main for several hours, and something has her rattled pretty bad. I gave her first aid, what meds we had, and she is in good paws now. She's tough; she'll be OK."

"Did she say anything about what's going on?" Jack wanted to know.

"The Director was in full conspiracy mode," Kurt said, meaning only personal, casual conversation. "She may have said something to the WildeHopps—she does seem pretty close to them."

"And she wouldn't let her bag out of her sight," Blackwell added. "She brought back something important enough not to let us bring it here, sir."

"Did she say where she's going next?" Jack asked. The original plan was to bring the vixen back to Zootopia, but that would be reckless with the warrant out for her arrest.

"Well," Kurt said, "when our phones buzzed with the dead-or-alive alert, we thought bringing her here was a bust. And, her father being who he is-that was a surprise, sir-Judy said they would be taking her home, whatever that means."

Jack smiled.

"Bunnyburrow," he said, relieved. "Matilda, I'll be needing a seat on the Express tomorrow."

* * *

 _12:30 PM_

Kataiahs sat at his desk, watching the live ZNN coverage on a body that had gruesomely interrupted the festivities at the Kit's Day festival in Outback Island, when Trina came running in, unannounced, and handed him a sheet of paper.

 _In the Commonwealth of Zootopia you are hereby commanded to arrest and bring before the Commonwealth District Court of Plainsville the following mammal:_

 _ZIA CoDirector of Independent Field Operations Skye._

 _Last known address: Apt 1003, West Canal Breeze Apartments, Canal District._

 _Last know whereabouts: Subject was last seen fleeing law enforcement agents under gunfire off the Plainsville coast near the Pawtucket Tourist Village. Subject was given passage by known gun smugglers on heavily-armed speedboat heading east across Zootopia bay._

 _This mammal is considered armed and extremely dangerous. Lethal force is hereby authorized to ensure public safety and prevent escape by the subject. Prior identification of arresting parties not mandatory to ensure public safety and prevent escape by the subject. This warrant has been issued pursuant Zootopia Section 12, Sub-section 5, Paragraph 18: Commonwealth Joint Conspiracy Investigation, Re: Deaths of active ZPD officers Judith and Nicholas WildeHopps._

 _Signed: G.R Cowling, Presiding Justice, ZCDC-P_

 _Authorized: A. M. Lionheart, Mayor, ZCCZ_

"What now, sir," the doe asked. Kataiahs thought for a while.

"Since there is only one thing that makes sense for them to do," he told her, "Zeke shall be going to Bunnyburrow; he'll know the place when you call him." He paused for a moment. "Ever been to the Burrows, Trina?" he asked.

"No, sir," she said, smiling. "I'm quite the city-bunny."

"It's very charming," the lynx said. "You'll love it. Call the office to let them know we will be making a long-overdue visit."

"We, sir?"

"Of course, my dear," he said, cheerfully. "You really don't think I want to be away from you, do you?"

"Thank you, sir," she said, eyes lighting up. "When shall I make the arrangements for?"

"Check the schedule, but I believe there is not much left this week. Tonight should be fine."

"Yes, sir," she said, then frowned. "But, why are we going to Bunnyburrow, sir?"

Kataiahs smiled. "I have this feeling something extraordinary is about to happen."

* * *

 _1:30 PM_

Pleasantries and small-talk finished, the polar bear put his cup down gently on the side table, leaning back into the plush chair. Although significantly larger than the white wolf across from him, he had no illusions that he could win in a fight. The bear relied on the authority of the Crown to protect him, so he put his paw on the armrest, making sure the signet ring identifying him as Imperial Special Envoy was clearly visible.

"So, tell me, Octavio," he said, calmly. "Why shouldn't the Emperor put a stop to this lunacy of yours?"

"My lord surely has read the reports I have been sending, hasn't he?" Octavio replied comfortably. The bear nodded.

"Of course, Octavio," he said. "That is why I am here. I expected this matter resolved by now, but all I seem to read are reasons why it is not."

"I am happy to say, my lord, that there has been much progress recently," Octavio said, pleasantly. "But I didn't expect my lord to be here, so I sent the dispatches in the usual manner. I would be glad to bring my lord up to date on events."

"That won't be necessary, Octavio," the bear said, dismissively. "The Emperor is recalling you to Aurora." Octavio stared in disbelief. The polar bear gave him a mirthless smile. "What did you imagine would happen? That the Emperor would bring the Empire to the brink of war just to satisfy your need to prove yourself?"

"To prove myself?" Octavio sputtered.

"And just where is the Lady Ryzhaya?" the bear pushed.

"Lady who?"

"Come, now, Octavio," the bear said, impatiently. "I know you bedded her; I am not without my own resources. She has not been heard from since you reported her delivering this device of yours." Octavio blinked.

"Tonya?" he stammered, confused. "Lady Ryzhaya? There is no House Ryzhaya!"

"You are more the fool than I thought," the bear said, shaking his head. "Did you think the Emperor would send a commoner—or a slave—for something _you_ convinced him was this important? House Ryzhaya was raised last spring; her father invented the monomer technology used to encase your fanciful device."

"I don't know where she is," Octavio admitted. "We have been looking for her, hoping she could deliver the other device."

"What do you mean," the polar bear demanded, surprised, " 'the other device?' There are more than one?"

"It appears 'Lady Ryzhaya' actually built two of them and decided to keep one for herself," Octavio told him. "That is what I have discovered, just last night."

"Well, isn't the timing most convenient?" the bear said sarcastically. Octavio bristled. "What other 'conveniences' would you care to share with me, Octavio?"

As if on cue, the side door opened. Princess Chia stepped in, giving the polar bear a polite curtsy.

"Lord Maedved," she said, sweetly, making her way towards Octavio. "What a pleasure to see you. It has been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Y-your Highness," he said, rising quickly from his chair to bow nervously. There was something different about her. "I didn't expect to see you here." Then he caught the scent of Octavio's mark on her as she curled herself luxuriously over the white wolf's feet, smiling up at the bear.

"Oh," she giggled, unnerving the polar bear to no end. "But, where else would I be?"

"The Commons..." She giggled again

"I do apologize, my lord," she said charmingly, "I would have been here sooner, would it not be for the slow...staff...transferring my things to Lord Belyiklyk's quarters. I did not think I had brought so many things with me."

"What? You're...sharing quarters?" the bear asked, incredulously. "That's..."

"Wonderful!" she said, happily. "Isn't it, my lord?" The polar bear ignored the subtle warning tone in her voice.

"It's preposterous!" the bear roared in outrage, standing up. "Show me the kits!"

"Oh, dear," Chia said, disappointed. "You challenge Octavio's Mark."

"Enough with this farce!" the bear said angrily. "You are coming back to Aurora, in chains if need be," he said to threateningly to Octavio, then pointed his finger at Chia. "And you are coming to explain this scandal to your father! Guards! Get these mongrels out of my sight!" The polar bear's personal guards inside the room remained still, staring impassively.

"You have challenged my Mark," Octavio said coldly, "offended my honor, and insulted my mate, a princess of the Empire. Your life is an affront to all honorable mammals."

"Guards! Seize him!" the bear repeated, only then realizing what had happened as Octavio launched himself at him, driving him to the floor and ripping his throat out with bare teeth. The polar bear's guards saluted their lord's honorable death, then withdrew from the room.

Octavio stood up, blood dripping from his muzzle. He had a deep gash in his thigh from the bear's claws that he thought would make a respectable scar, reminding him to tuck his legs in the next time he tried something like that. Chia sprang to her feet, clapping.

"Oh, my love!" she said excitedly, watching the bear's eyes glaze over. "I have just the perfect spot to put him!"

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **There it is. Let me know your thoughts.**

 **Until next time, thanks for reading!**


	19. A deep friendship begins

**Author's Note:**

 **Here is the next installment. It is rather long, so I hope you enjoy it.**

 **As always, comments are welcome!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _3:00 PM_

Nick woke up to his favorite sound: His mate purring softly against his chest. _Can you believe this beautiful bunny is your mate? You must have done something right in your life to deserve her. Can't figure what, though, so maybe it's the biggest mistake in history!_

He still didn't understand what she saw in him. Sure, his mom loved him, but she had little choice in the matter. So did Cynthia, for that matter, but it was not the same; perhaps if they had stayed together...would she be his mate? He'd never considered it, though he knew she had.

Judy, however, was something entirely different. Nick had never cared if anyone loved him. If they did, great; if they didn't, their loss. But Judy was the one mammal whose love he _wanted_ ; her opinion really meant something to him, and her opinion of him was as important to him as breathing. She made him want to be a better mammal.

And she was a _bunny!_ Cute, cuddly, soft and _very_ affectionate—when he didn't do anything too stupid. He just wanted to...

"You want to squeeze me, don't you?" Judy murmured.

"What makes you say that?" Nick replied casually.

"I'm cute, cuddly, soft, and your arms are locked around me like a python." Nick relaxed his arms. "I can breathe!" Judy said, taking a deep breath.

"I love you," he told her.

"That's why I stick around, Slick," she purred. "Plus, your tail is _so_ fluffy."

"Us predators need the right bait to catch our prey," he said, wrapping her in his tail.

"You caught me," she said. "But I'm not taking off my underwear."

"You're not wearing any," he reminded her, rubbing his naked privates against hers.

"Now, how did that happen?" she whispered playfully. There was a soft knock on the door. Judy rubbed against her mate affectionately, then sat up. "We're awake," she answered.

"Papa has news," came Arkadia's voice. Nick buried his head under the pillow.

"We'll be right there," Judy said, getting out of the bed and walking over to where her clothes lay in the middle of the room. She bent over, legs straight and hands on her knees, to pick them up. Looking over her shoulder towards the bed, she could see Nick peeking interestedly from under the pillow. She wiggled her hips seductively. "Wakey, wakey, Mr. Fox," she chirruped, then squealed as Nick pounced off the bed for her.

Rolling to the floor, mate in his grasp, Nick came up on all fours over Judy, kissing her soundly.

"The predator catches his prey," Judy said, dramatically, "then blood, blood...death!"

"So, just where does the kiss fit into that picture?" asked Nick, picking up his clothes.

"Some predators play with their food first," she replied sagely, slipping on her underwear.

"Some predators must starve to death," he said, sadly. His stomach grumbled. "See what I mean?"

"One has to find balance," she said, imitating Yax from Mystic Springs Oasis. "Balance is everything."

Nick gave a wise nod. His expression turned pensive. "Hold on, Fluff," he said before Judy put the rest of her clothes on.

She looked at him quizzically, then understandingly as he pulled her panties down a bit and rubbed his cheeks between her tail and buttocks, marking her. She always found the experience very pleasant and sensual, and she lovingly ran her paw over his head, enjoying the intimate ritual. She brought his head up for a kiss.

"My fox," she said, kissing him.

"Better believe it, mammal," he said.

"It's been a while, Nick," she said, putting on her clothes. "Why the sudden rush?"

"Just making make sure Antonio and everyone else knows crystal-clear who my mate is," he said possessively. She smiled.

"That was pretty good, Slick," she said, driving her paw to her chest. "Right from the heart."

"My bunny," he growled, pulling her into a hug. His stomach rumbled again.

"We better get going," Judy said. "Before you really do try to eat me."

They went out into the hall, passing by Skye's room when the vixen opened her door.

"I can't do this," Skye said, heavily. Judy pushed Nick to go on ahead and went over to the vixen.

"What's the matter?" she asked, taking her paw.

"I don't want to see Papa," she said, tensing up. "I..."

"Hey, hey," Judy said, giving her a hug. "Come on. What's the worst that can happen?"

"I'll swallow him in one bite," the vixen growled.

"OK," Judy said. "I'll admit that's not something I'd thought about. Want to talk about it?" Skye let her into the room, limping slightly towards the bed. She sat down and Judy hopped up next to her.

"How much has Nicky told you?" the vixen asked.

"Maybe more than you'd want," Judy said. "I can't imagine what that must have been like…happening, here, in your own house. It's horrible."

"Nicky only knows that part of it," Skye said, sadly. "He doesn't know anything about what happened after I left. And I don't want him to."

"Well, you don't have to say anything at all, Skye," Judy told her. "But Nick loves you, and he is not the least judgmental about those he loves." The vixen smiled.

"I'm not talking about him judging me, Judy," she said. "You know how he is, how protective he can get." She sighed. "You know what happens when he lets you down. The last thing I want is for him to feel responsible."

"Yeah," Judy admitted. "I know what you mean." She still occasionally had to deal with Nick feeling guilty they were kitless, saying she would be better off without him and having the large family she (supposedly) dreamed of with some buck. "He can be stubborn that way. I think it goes back to his parents' divorce, though he doesn't talk much about it."

"He never talked about his family with me," Skye said. "Except for Finnic. Lots to say about him."

"Not much has changed," Judy said, dryly. "They'd slit their throats for the other..."

"...But you could never tell by what they say about each other," Skye finished for her, smiling. Judy put her paw on the vixen's.

"Nick said he thought you died at that school attack during the Northmarsh revolution," she said.

"He's not wrong," the vixen said, somberly. "Cynthia Pearl Big died in that place; Skye was 'born from the ashes.'"

"How did you escape, anyway?" Judy asked. "All the students who weren't ransomed supposedly died when the revolutionaries blew up the school." Skye laughed bitterly.

"No mammals died in the explosion," she said. "The whole incident was a fundraiser. The explosives were set to ensure any remains would be impossible to identify. They weren't even revolutionaries; they were slavers." Judy looked skeptical.

"How come none of that made it into the news?" she asked.

"It did," Skye said. "There was a single, live report by a start-up news service, Bunnyvision News, that ran at 3:00AM the day it all started. They had managed to get a shot of the leader, none other than The Jackal, the most notorious slave runner at the time. At the beginning, the slavers didn't even have uniforms—but they had the blessings of the Revolutionary Council who needed funds urgently."

"How do you know all this?" Judy asked, intrigued.

"I was there," she said, then smiled. "And the ZIA has a complete file on the incident. When the revolution started, one of its rallying calls was 'the end of slavery'. That found a lot of favor with key Commonwealth leaders, who began funding the rebels without the full knowledge of the Council, expecting that full support would be easy to get once slaves started to go free."

"I don't remember anything like that happening," Judy said.

"That's because the rebels didn't mean the end of the slave-class," Skye told her. "They meant the end of absolute power for the monarchy. By the time the Commonwealth leaders figured that out, significant funds had already flowed out and a lot of politics and propaganda had taken place. Only good things were making it into the media about the rebels, atrocities overlooked as 'zealousness for freedom', dissenting views drowned in character assassination, reporters who didn't tow the party line, banned from prestigious government assignments. You name it.

"When the ZIA finally managed to get good mammint—that's the term we use for mammal-gathered intelligence, or spies—it showed the slave-class suffering most of the hardship, and their numbers soaring rather than dropping. So, the Leadership quietly pulled the plug on the money."

"That must have gone over well," Judy said.

"No money, no weapons," Skye agreed. "They panicked. They came up with a scheme to raid the boarding school and ransom the students but couldn't finance the operation. They needed someone else."

"The Jackal," Judy said.

"Yep. Elkwood Preparatory Academy was the most prestigious boarding school on the continent. Half the royals in Mammaldom sent their kits there for an education, as did many of the wealthiest and most powerful private citizens. The school even had merit scholarships for the brightest kits of all countries. Over a thousand students, in all. It was very well guarded; the rebels had never been able to get close to it. The Jackal, however, was apolitical; a businessmammal. He outright bought the commander of the troops guarding the area, then simply rolled his trucks in for the harvest. By chance, on the same day brand-new Bunnyvision News had a crew on-site shooting a fluff-piece on the scholarship students."

"That explains the report," Judy said. "How did the actual story get pulled?"

"As I said, The Jackal was a businessmammal," Skye said. "He offered exclusive inside footage—and the crew's life—if they pulled the story. Quite a bargain, actually; the Commonwealth leadership had rushed to pressure the network to kill the story, anyway, so they could keep the slavery issue out of the media. That was an election year and too many politicians had tied their campaigns to supporting the 'progressive elements of freedom' in Northmarsh."

"I do remember that 'progressive elements' crap," Judy said. "That was before schoolkits were getting shot on live TV."

"The ones they shot…were the ones with no value," Skye said, sadly. "The weak, the unattractive, the ones who couldn't be sold. There could be no witnesses. They…used them…before killing them, too. The Jackal didn't let any resource go to waste: The rank and file of the slavers wanted 'bonuses' for the risks of attacking the school."

"I don't understand," Judy interrupted. "Why couldn't they sell all of them?"

Skye sighed. "Oh, Judy," she said. "So much is kept hidden about slavery. It is one of Zootopia's dirtiest little secrets. By law, you are forbidden to reveal the truth; it falls under sedition. Ask Jack about it sometime." She shook her head in disgust. "Even with that," she said, "Zootopia is a paradise compared to the rest of Mammaldom." She paused, breathing hard. Judy squeezed her paw.

"You don't have to talk about it," she said. Skye smiled.

"Yes, I do," the vixen said, sounding a bit detached. "Making a slave is very expensive. In addition to the cost of capturing one, a slave must be processed. A slave is a piece of property; they own nothing; have no rights; no identity but their registration number, though their owners usually give them nicknames. Predators bring considerably higher prices than prey. It's simple economics: There are just so many more preys. Highest prices are for slaves in their late-teens to early twenties, and the younger the slave, the cheaper to process. It is truly a complicated business, quite fascinating except for how disgusting it is." She paused. "Something like the school raid is ideal," she went on. "Prime age-to-processing-cost ratios; high-quality, healthy specimens due to their social status; hundreds of targets concentrated in a small, limited-access area. It's a treasure trove asking to be plundered."

"What are these 'processing costs' you mentioned?" Judy asked. Skye swallowed and sniffled, with a tear running down her cheek.

"A slave cannot have anything to give them a sense of importance. Not a name, not pride—not even scent," she said, clinically. "Slaves have their scent glands surgically removed. It is a very painful and expensive procedure; kits born into slavery have them removed a few days after birth, when it is much easier to do, with fewer complications, at a much lower cost." The vixen swallowed hard this time, stifling a sob.

"I was born a slave, Judy," she said. "I have no detectable scent, except at…certain times, since they ca-cannot remove all th-the scent glands from a f-female and ha-have her remain f-fertile. My kits will ne-never know the scent of th-their mother and my m-mate will never b-bear my mark. I am n-nobody to a f-fox."

Judy was speechless. She did the only thing she could, standing up on the bed and pulling the vixen into a tight hug, nuzzling her head like her mother used to do to her. Skye cried softly in her arms for a few moments, then took a deep breath and continued. Judy kept her arms around her.

"Prey are dealt with more harshly," Skye said. "Unless they are obviously superior specimens, all preys get neutered, without much concern about cosmetic appeal or pain. I've seen them do the procedures in five minutes—one for the males. At the school, they set up an...assembly line for the ones they couldn't ransom. The news didn't broadcast that. They did make recordings, though, which the ZIA confiscated, but will never see the light of day." She sighed. "A slave cannot hide in the North—at least not from predators: The lack of scent is a dead giveaway. It's how the slavers found me out. The Jackal had to kill two of his lieutenants over me: They wanted to ransom me, but The Jackal knew he had a gold mine; he put me up for bid, then pulled me off when the bids went over eight million."

"Eight million!" Judy said, incredulously. Skye looked up at her.

"Males find me attractive," she said, mystified. "For a slave, that is a curse more often than not." She put her head against Judy's chest again. "I used it to get away."

"What about The Jackal?" Judy asked. "He must've been howling at the moon!"

"Oh," Skye said coldly. "He did. I wasn't one of those defenseless schoolkits; I kept the knife my rapist used on me, a good little knife; razor-sharp, easy to conceal; just the right size for my paws. I practiced with it daily, so I was comfortable using it. The Jackal wanted to sample the merchandise, so he took me alone in his car, not even bothering to tie up such a pretty little vixen, telling her not to be afraid, to just relax...I waited until his paw was up my dress, watching him try to drive while copping a feel. I knew what sounds to make, how to lean into his paw so he could easy slip it inside my underwear." She chuckled.

"He pulled off the road," she said, "so proud of himself for arousing the terrified schoolkit into begging for him. The caravan drove past us, cheering their leader on, truck after truck. Then it was just him and I, with the smoking ruins of the school barely visible in the distance behind us. He was so excited. I almost felt sorry for him when he climbed over me. He looked into my eyes and asked if I was ready. I was; so was my trusty little knife. It went smoothly into his privates, and he just kept looking at me, screaming, as I slid the knife all the way up to his chin—I still have it, the knife; it's in my bag if you'd like to see it."

Judy had studied enough about sexual assault victims at the academy to listen to the vixen's retelling of events without shock. Skye was a survivor and, obviously, a deadly predator with the nerve and patience to achieve her goals—as The Jackal found out, much too late. Skye was breathing a bit easier, but still finding comfort in Judy's embrace.

"It was early winter," the vixen went on, "and I had nothing but the bloody clothes I wore. The Jackal had nothing useful on him, so I shoved him out of the car and drove off the main roads until the fuel cells died, then started walking. It began to snow, which wasn't so bad until it turned to freezing rain. Northmarsh has truly despicable weather. I'm fine in the snow, but I'll still freeze to death covered in ice. Luckily, I stumbled on to a cottage, knocked on the door, and was greeted by a mole, Mr. Underwood." She smiled.

"Mr. Owen Underwood was a potato farmer. His wife had been killed months before during the revolution, leaving her husband alone to care for their kit. He was kind, gentle and warm. He could smell the blood on me, so he let me in, knowing I was in trouble, but not caring what it might be. He fed me, let me take a hot bath, then gave me a warm place to sleep. He knew I was a slave with that sharp nose of his, but never brought it up nor asked how I ended up on his doorstep. His daughter, Parilla, was adorable and as blind as her father; I was Aunt Skye to her. Skye was the name of a student band I had been playing the keyboard with at the school—I had to do something with all those piano lessons I took."

Judy sat on the bed, Skye laying down with her head on the doe's lap.

"I stayed the winter with them," the vixen said, "helping around the house, helping with Parilla. One night, I heard Owen crying, and I went to see what was wrong before Parilla woke up. He told me it was his wedding anniversary, and I got so, so angry that this wonderful mammal had to suffer so much, that he ended up calming me down instead...and...I...we...comforted each other." She sighed. "He told me I was beautiful, though he couldn't see past his eyebrows, and he made me believe it. Owen was my first—I don't count that other...trash." She paused, remembering that time.

"We were happy," she said. "We helped each other. Then spring came and we finally had to face reality. Slave or not, my lack of scent identified me as one. That meant I would classify as either unregistered or a runaway, and for Owen to have either on his property was an automatic death sentence. Both of us knew it. He gave me food, what cash he had, and I had altered some of his wife's clothes to fit. Then he sent me off. I remember them waving at me from the door as I turned to head down the road; I kept that picture firmly in my mind because I didn't dare to look back or I would lose my nerve and never get the courage to leave again."

"Did you ever go back?" Judy asked.

"Owen asked me not to," Skye replied. "He needed to find a new wife to help him raise Parilla. He told me he would never be able to love another female if I was there, and you cannot marry a slave, anyway. He remarried about a year later—a mole, of course—and has three more kits; I checked up on him a few years after I joined the ZIA." She smiled. "His youngest daughter is Skye Underwood.

"After I left, it took me months to make my way to the capital. I couldn't make it across the border without papers, so I planned to make it to the Zootopian embass-but then couldn't get in without papers proving I wasn't a slave, anyway. It was horrible, and I did...what I had to...to survive. About a month after I arrived, I had...spent some time...with a panda to get a meal and a place to sleep for the night. He was a very nice panda, Mr. Woo, an older gentlemammal who actually cared enough to introduce me to a vixen, Madame Foxtail." Skye took a deep breath.

"She was the most beautiful mammal I'd ever seen," she said with awe. "A red fox, with big, beautiful blue eyes, a little shorter than average, but still larger than life. She could charm the spots off a cheetah, soothe the most colicky kit, or stand up to the most vicious Secret Police agent. She took me in."

"I thought that was a death-sentence," Judy said. Skye laughed softly.

"Not for Madame Foxtail," she said. "She was likely the most influential mammal in Northmarsh. Nobody crossed her."

"She was a royal?" Judy asked. Skye laughed again.

"Oh, my, no," she said, giggling. "She was the...manager...of Northmarsh's most famous and exclusive brothel: Foxtails." Judy gasped.

"Prostitution is very much illegal in Northmarsh," Skye went on. "But brothels are legal and very well regulated for health code and breeding law reasons. Madame Foxtail was an 'emancipated' slave, meaning she had no owner, but still had no rights. Her owner had emancipated her before he died and left her as manager of his estate, which included Foxtails, giving her the legal protection of the estate. So, while she could not own anything, she controlled everything. Her clientele included the King—her personal client—and that made her more influential than the Prime Minister."

"The king? In a brothel?" Judy asked incredulously. "Just how does the king end up in a brothel?"

"It's like a very exclusive social club," Skye explained. "Most of what goes on doesn't happen in the bedroom, and, even then, many times it's only simple conversation that takes place. Most clients want someone comfortable to talk to, or someone to dance with, or have dinner with, or just need a hug. Some even bring their spouses—that's freaky, for sure, but not uncommon. Zootopia has nothing like it, although most of the brothels were not like Foxtails. There were also horrible places where the workers barely had any food or a warm place to sleep and would be whipped for the smallest of reasons...The King was an elk—"

"What?" Judy interrupted. "How does an elk and a fox—" Skye laughed.

"Do you want the details," she teased. Judy blushed. "Care to know how to make Chief Bogo fall in love with you?"

"Just ignore me, please," Judy pleaded, face and ears very pink.

"At any rate," Skye said, "I spent over a year learning all I could from Madame Foxtail—she was the one who taught me how to 'harvest' my scent so I could pass casual inspections—she was a wonderful teacher and, eventually, a good friend. When I finally opened up and told her who I was, I felt so stupid: She knew Papa—and still remembered the Arctic vixen pup he had brought with him when he hid in her house during his escape from the civil wars in Baratea. Within a week, Papa came to get me. He brought my documents and all the paperwork required to bring me back to Zootopia."

"You must have been excited," Judy said.

"I couldn't bring myself to leave, actually," Skye said. "I didn't feel like I belonged in Zootopia anymore; or that I could face my family and friends. Worst of all, I couldn't stand the thought of facing Nicky with what I had become."

"Hey! What kind of talk is that?" Judy said.

"Very young vixen talk," Skye said, ruefully. "I was only eighteen, with an over-romantic view of life. I had built Nicky up into an idealized fantasy to keep my sanity, but it had gone on for so long, I couldn't separate fact from fiction anymore. Papa, I think, realized this, and he didn't like the idea of Nicky and I together, anyway." She sighed.

"He proposed that I look after the family's business interests in the North," she said. "I found the idea quite exciting, and I also liked that Madame Foxtail would be my mentor—Papa had long since bought controlling interests in Foxtails to keep Madame Foxtail safe from the many financial predators and crime families. All was great for two years, then Northmarsh started the war with Baratea over that stupid river and all went to scat."

"Wasn't that just a border thing?" Judy asked. "Why was it so bad?"

"There was a lot of resentment towards foreigners after the Council of Mammals imposed sanctions on Northmarsh for starting the war. It was winter—for some ghastly reason, trouble always starts in the winter up there—and riots broke out in the capital protesting food rationing when foreign food imports stopped. The local crime families used the opportunity to cut into Papa's businesses by spreading rumors his clubs were sending money to Baratea. There were so many desperate mammals that more than a few took out their frustrations based on these rumors, guided, of course, by Papa's competitors. Things got out of hand...the crowds went from looting to lynching to...in the North, they eat real meat, Judy." The doe gasped at that; she had heard the rumors, of course, but found it hard to believe.

"Many of us got away, but Madame Foxtail...was caught...she wouldn't tell them where we were hiding...they...a—" Skye began crying again, much worse than before, calling out the name of her mentor and friend. Judy stroked her head, letting the vixen get it all out.

"I-I sent word t-to Papa when things started to get b-bad," Skye said after a while "...I asked f-for help...we didn't hear back for a w-week! He sent 'Do what you think is best'...nothing else...he left us to d-die!" The vixen's tears were now of frustration and betrayal. Judy kept quiet, stroking her fur gently. Eventually the tears stopped.

"But I didn't die," Skye's said, again with a deadly, cold voice. "I sent the others east, into Nines. Then I visited the heads of the crime families, one by one, to express my...disappointment...with them. My little knife was very busy; I had to sharpen it several times before I was done. Then I took their heads and hanged them on the flagpoles around the Walk of Nations. But I didn't have enough for all the poles; I had to go find their lieutenants to get the full set. I really like that knife; I should get one for Jack. Would you like one, too, Judy? Or Nicky?"

Judy swallowed. "I prefer my gun," she said. "And Nick is a little squeamish about blood."

Skye laughed. "Oh, yes," she said, bouncing back to normal. "I do remember that. He almost fainted one time when he found a tick on his leg." She sighed. "I haven't seen Papa since he left me in Northmarsh. After I eventually got back to Zootopia, Jack made me call him, though. He said it was cruel not to let Papa know I was still alive. It's one of the few times we've fought, but in the end, I realized Jack was right and I called. Papa never said anything! Not even 'glad you're alive'. Nothing. So, I said my peace and haven't spoken to him in ten years."

"Maybe it's time you did," Judy said. "I know your father has his...tough...side, but in the years I've known him, he has never failed to put family first. I mean, he has almost gone completely legit, and I'm sure it's mostly because of me and Nick. I also know he misses you a lot; I just always thought his 'missing snow flower' was dead."

"She _is_ dead," Skye insisted.

"No, she isn't." Judy told her, no-nonsense. "She's just not a little kit anymore. She grew up. Tough, smart, pretty...unfairly pretty, if you ask me...and a survivor." Judy smiled. "There's nothing you can't handle, Antonio included."

"I think I'm pregnant," Skye said. Judy stared, smile frozen on her face.

* * *

 _5:00 PM_

On the screen, ZNN reporter Katman Dooh stood with the sea roiling dramatically behind him, holding a ZNN microphone.

 _"Yes, Peter,"_ he said. _"Ever since the morning's grisly surprise washed on shore here at Outback Island's Kitty Beach, interrupting what should have been a happy Kit's Day festival, everyone has been speculating about who the unfortunate victim might be. Now, finally, in a statement released just minutes ago by ZPD Chief Adriene Bogo, the body has been identified as one Lady Tonya Alerya Ryzhaya, daughter of recently appointed Minister of Science of the Kingdom of Baratea, Lord Mardius Valentin Ryzhaya."_

The screen now showed a beautiful picture of Tonya with a much smaller picture of her father in the lower-right corner.

 _"The statement reveals that dental work on the victim pointed to a citizen of Baratea, and a subsequent search through ZINS admissions records found a match for the victim's DNA. As you might know, Peter, DNA records are on file for long-term visa holders for just these types of circumstances, and ZINS records show Lady Ryzhaya entered the Commonwealth two years ago under a 4-year, graduate study visa."_

A scene showing the Plainsville Institute of Technology took up the screen.

" _Lady Ryzhaya was pursuing a Doctorate degree from the renowned Academy of Advanced Physics at the Plainsville Institute of Technology,"_ the jaguar continued, _"from where she was first reported missing about one month ago by her faculty advisor, Professor Albert Renard. The statement goes on to say that Lady Ryzhaya's family has been contacted, and that a murder investigation has been opened due to the nature of the wounds found on the victim."_

Now a scene of the Baratean embassy from outside the compound front gate, its flag lowered to half-mast by uniformed mammals, was on the screen.

 _"In a simultaneous statement from the Baratean embassy, ambassador Lord Gremwald Chalcedon condemned the killing of Lady Ryzhaya and urged the ZPD and ZBI to bring the perpetrators to justice. Also in the statement, the ambassador pledges full cooperation and assistance from the Baratean embassy to swiftly bring justice for Lady Ryzhaya and closure for her grieving family. Furthermore, the statement announced the Baratean flag will fly half-mast at the embassy until the perpetrators are caught and justice for this young mammal has been served."_

Octavio turned the TV off, praising the intricacies of timing. Just a few hours earlier and this broadcast might also show him dragged in chains to face murder charges, though he hadn't done it; Lord Maedved had assembled enough circumstantial evidence to convict him and, for a Zootopian court at least, Octavio had motive.

His cellphone distracted him with the tone denoting a secure connection, so he answered and waited for the phones to synchronize. He was not surprised to hear the voice at the other end of the connection.

 _"We need to meet,"_ came Arthur Foxworth's voice, crystal-clear in the encrypted link.

"Arthur," Octavio said casually. "How nice to hear from you. Please do tell me you are calling about the news broadcast!"

 _"Of course, I'm calling about the broadcast,"_ Arthur said. _"I want asylum."_

"I told you not to trust her, Arthur," Octavio laughed, "not to kill her."

 _"It was her or me,"_ Arthur said, matter-of-factly, _"and I was not **that** fond of her."_

"Good for you, mammal!" Octavio said. "But bringing you in would not be easy. I would venture to say, impossible, even."

 _"Anything is possible,"_ Arthur said positively. _"Want me to prove it to you?"_

Octavio was intrigued. "I'm a reasonable mammal, Arthur, as you know," he said. "Impress me."

Arthur chuckled. _"I have the other device,"_ he said. _"Impressed?"_

Octavio was. "We have a deal," he said. "Call back after an hour."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Well, I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **There are decisions characters have to make later on, so I like to give insight into their motives.**

 **I decided to stop the chapter here rather than add more (the meeting between Skye and Mr. Big). Should get the next chapter out sooner.**

 **Let me know your thoughts.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	20. Fog begins to clear

**Author's Note:**

 **Next installment.**

 **Pictures are coming together.  
**

 **Yes, there's fluff. It is Zootopia, after all.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _5:02 PM_

Judy wasn't sure what to think about Skye's revelation. Her own feelings on the subject varied from day to day, and she'd spent the last twenty minutes trying in vain to sort them out while comforting her new friend. The vixen had been telling her about her...dating...life, but it really didn't sound like there was much in the way of answers: unless she had been very drunk and forgotten something, the timing was way off, and she should be much more obviously pregnant.

"…And, of course," Skye said, "I did get that implant."

"An implant?" Judy asked. "I thought those left a bump or something."

"So did I. But my doctor showed me something new, one that doesn't go under the skin. Supposed to be 99.9999% effective," the vixen said wryly.

"What if you were pregnant before the implant?" Judy asked.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm just that lucky, one-in-a-million mammal," Skye mused. "Or J—" she stopped.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," Skye said, trying to avoid something.

"Spill it," Judy told her. "I didn't spend the last two hours getting to know you just to have you skip out on me now."

Skye suddenly turned shy, fidgeting with her paws, her tail curling and uncurling behind her. "I've been sleeping with Jack," she said, bashfully.

"I figured something was up between you two," Judy said, unsurprised. "How long has it been going on?"

"Oh, not that long," the vixen said. "Just over eight years—give or take."

"Sweet cheese and crackers!" Judy said. "Why don't you just marry the buck!"

"Who? Jack? It's just sex," the vixen protested. "Don't be ridiculous. Marry? We're not serious, or anything. I mean, come on! He sees plenty of bunnies on the side, believe me, Judy, so why would he ever consider someone like me? Some strumpet that gets knocked up and doesn't even know who did it? For real? Who can't even give him his own kits? Would you consider such a mammal a suitable mate, Judy? Would anyone? Of course not! No. No, Jack has so many better options, he would be stupid to settle for a tramp like me. No, Judy. No. We just have sex every now and then, nothing more. It's not like he's _my bunny_ or something. It—"

"You love him, don't you?" Judy interrupted. The vixen gave a soft whine, closing her eyes.

"More than anything," she confessed, wretchedly. "It took me this long to figure it out—now that I've gone and ruined everything!"

Judy hugged her. "Everyone always underestimates love," she told the vixen. "They don't always understand it, so they underestimate it." She absently stroked the vixen's head. "When I finally confronted my own feelings for Nick, it was almost too late. We were best friends, sure; partners, always. But we had never really talked about how we truly felt about the other. I was dating, so was Nick—or so he said at the time. Nick thought all I wanted was the 'bunny dream', you know, that large family, my own branch of the Clan. To a point, so did I. But I also love being a cop, and that's not exactly suited to raising a couple-hundred kits. I'm also a... plain bunny, and I've always considered Nick…hot—and so did most of the other females around. So, how does a plain-Jane bunny get involved with a hot fox? Can't offer him kits, which I know is very important to you foxes, so what was I going to do? I kept finding excuses not to admit I loved him, kept going on failed dates trying to prove to myself I really did want that 'bunny dream.' And, I eventually did find one buck who somewhat measured up to my expectations, and I did grow fond of him, and he did persuade me that the 'bunny dream' was right for me. We set a date and Nick was ecstatic that I'd found someone; I had truly never seen him so happy. A week before the wedding, who else but Finnic shows up on my doorstep." Skye giggled.

"Of course, he would," she said.

"Yeah," Judy said. "He tells me the truth about Nick's 'dating life,' consisting primarily of tequila and that vile gin he likes."

"Blame Uncle Koslov for that," Skye said. "He introduced him to it."

Judy sighed. "Nick was drinking himself to sleep every night looking at the picture of us from his Academy graduation," Judy said. "Finnic told me about how he would just beat himself up trying to find excuses not to tell me how he felt, just so I could enjoy that 'bunny dream' and be happy."

"What did you do?" Skye asked, and Judy could hear the faint hope in her voice.

"I got angry," she said. "Angry at Nick for not giving me a chance to accept his love; angry at myself for not giving him one, either. Even angry at Finnic for not speaking up sooner, if you can believe it. I was a bunny on the warpath. I called my fiancée and told him I intended to remain a cop. Know what he told me? He said, 'It's that damned fox of yours, isn't it?' And guess what, Skye. I _liked_ the sound of that: _My fox_. Not just liked it; I _craved_ it. To the core of my being. So, I called off the wedding, went down to the precinct, got our cruiser and parked outside Nick's place, then called him on the loudspeakers until he poured out of the building, smelling like a moonshine still."

 _"Go away, Carrots," Nick said, wretchedly. "Don't you have any respect for the drunk?"_

 _"Nicholas Piberius Wilde," Judy said, stepping out of the cruiser, "you arrogant, son of a—"_

 _Nick gave her his best 'really?' look._

 _"Cheese and crackers!" Judy shouted. "You would just lay in your room, drowning in alcohol, rather than tell me how you feel?"_

 _"How many times have I told you: I'm happy you found…whatshisname," he slurred. "Go, Carrots. Get married; flood the world with kits. You deserve it. Really. I **am** truly happy for you."_

 _"Finnic told me how you've been drinking yourself to sleep every night," Judy accused him, "staring at that picture of us."_

 _"Finnic has an unusually large mouth for an unusually small fox," Nick grumbled._

 _"You get one chance, Nick Wilde," Judy said, paws at her side, trembling with either rage or hope; she couldn't tell which. "But you have to say it."_

 _"Say what?" Nick challenged, eyes glistening in the moonlight. "That I love you? Of course, I love you, Judy. I love you! But I want—I need—you to be happy! I'd give my life for that."_

 _"Would you give it to me?"_

 _Nick looked down searchingly into her eyes, his own full of desperation with barely a sprinkle of hope. She took his paws into hers._

 _"I love you, you dumb fox," Judy said. Nick promptly threw up all over her._

"No!" Skye yelped. "All over you?"

Judy smiled. "Well, he is taller than I am," she said. "He couldn't look me in the eye for a week." She sighed. "The point is," she continued, "love is so powerful it can make us sacrifice everything for it, even when we don't have to. We need to give it the chance to work _for_ us, and it can only do that when we let others know how we feel."

The vixen sighed. "But what if Jack doesn't love me?" she said, sadly.

"Does it matter? Love isn't about you," Judy said. "If he doesn't, you move on, head held high. His loss. But if you don't speak up, you'll be miserable the rest of your life wondering 'what if' you had. And no one else can ever compete with that, Skye; they'll always feel like they're your second choice and so will you. That's not fair to anyone."

"Did you practice that speech?" Skye asked the bunny. Judy smiled.

"Just a lot of siblings," she said. "I saw too many of them make the mistake I almost did. After the first time I took Nick to meet my family, they rest all started coming to me for advice. It's quite the scandal, though no one has come out in the open, yet; at least eight of them are in a strong, committed, mixed-species relationship."

"You think I should tell Jack, then, even though I'm..."

"Smart, talented, and desirable enough for someone to knock up?" Judy posed to her. "You bet, I do. He deserves to know; it's not like you were trying for it, or careless, or that you and Jack were exclusive. Give yourself a break, Skye. Tell him. A buck doesn't stay around for eight years unless he's _seriously_ vested in you."

"Then why..."

"Don't waste your time speculating, mammal! Ask him! Give love a chance to work _for_ you, OK?" Judy gave her a hug. "Now, let's go see what your father has to say before he sends the Polar Patrol to get us."

* * *

 _5:20 PM_

Trina walked slightly behind Kataiahs, mostly out of survival. Savannah Central Station overflowed at the seams with the afternoon commute of mammals heading home for the day or heading to work for the evening. Kataiahs somehow managed to cut right through the traffic, never bumping into anyone, nor slowing down, nor stopping. His pace was stately, for lack of a better word, yet ate up the distance at an impressive rate. He had their bags, rolling along behind him, leaving the bunny with nothing to do but follow. And watch his tail with lustful eyes.

 _'Are you purring?'_ she asked herself, slightly dismayed. _'What has he done to you?'_

 _Sooo many **wonderful** things; I feel like a bunny at last!_

 _'Because you're in heat over a **predator**?'_

 _Hah! Bunnies don't go into heat._

 _'Then why is your...Oh, my.'_ To her right, high off the floor, a giant monitor showed a picture of a familiar red vixen. The running news ticker along the bottom read _'Body washed up on Outback Island's Kitty Beach identified.'_

"Sir," she said, tugging at Kataiahs' paw. "Monitor on the right."

Kataiahs slowed to a stop, reading the news feed while the throng of mammals streamed around them, giving the two a wide berth.

"Bollocks," he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "Nothing we can do about it now. Let's hope her knowledge died with her."

"That seems..." Trina began.

"A little cold, my dear?" Kataiahs completed for her.

"Well, yes, sir," the bunny said. Kataiahs smiled understandingly.

"I suppose it does," he said, "until you come to accept the entire fate of Mammaldom rests on the knowledge she possessed remaining secret. What we do, my dear, is bigger than anyone, even myself. Tonya was told of the danger she had unleashed, and she had the choice to walk away. At least we recovered the device, and without the Institute's equipment and her knowledge, it will take decades for anyone to duplicate her work."

"Is that all you care about, sir?" Trina said, guardedly.

"My dear," he told her. "Look around you. I care about _all_ these mammals—though, in particular, mostly _this one_." He lovingly touched her nose. "But it all means nothing if the entire world goes up in flames."

"I understand, sir," she said, looking down. "Sometimes it is hard to believe what is at stake."

"Don't worry too much, my dear. I have the utmost confidence it will all work out in the end. Now, where are we sitting?"

Trina blushed. "I got us a suite, sir," she said. "I hope you don't mind."

Kataiahs smiled widely. "See?" he told her. "You'll be a fine Matriarch: You have no problems making decisions."

* * *

 _Two hours ago_

Nick entered the large study, not sure what to expect. Cynthia was a huge obstacle in how he viewed Antonio Big. He wasn't keen on judging without the facts, but he was sure Antonio had been lying to him for at least over a decade. Nick had never harbored 'improper' feelings towards Cynthia, though he understood Antonio's concerns with some of the stunts the vixen had pulled as a young teenager.

Mr. Big wasn't his usual, calm self. Even angry, the Arctic shrew never seemed out of control, which made him more intimidating. Looking at him now, Nick saw an emotional wreck, fidgeting behind his desk and avoiding Nick's gaze, although that changed when it was clear the girls weren't following behind the tod. The tiny eyes dropped in disappointment and guilt.

"The girls will be here soon, Papa," Nick said. "Cynthia just wanted a word with Judy before coming down."

Antonio smiled gratefully at the news. "Perhaps that is best," he said. "There are...things...I need to say to you…in private."

Nick sat on one of the chairs across from the large desk that served as a platform for the shrew's smaller desk on top.

"Just what would that be, Papa?" he asked as politely as he could.

"Nicky, my son," the shrew said, raising his eyes. "I find myself...regretting...some of the things I have said to you before."

"You mean, like scheming to bed Cynthia? Not caring about anyone but myself? Cynthia died in the explosion?" Nick said, anger simmering up. "I have a whole catalog, if you want to go through it."

Antonio looked down, again. "You have...every reason...to be angry with me," the shrew said. "I always thought to protect the family—"

"I have never questioned your motives, Papa," Nick interrupted, surprising himself at the audacity. "It's your methods that leave a bad taste and change mammal's lives." The shrew looked even more submissive, so Nick knew he was sincere and toned his voice down.

"I admired you," he said. "How you look after your own, how you have a strict sense of honor, how you try so hard to be fair. I worked hard to earn your trust, Papa, and you threw me out like I was yesterday's fleas, and Cynthia paid the price for it. Do you know how that made me feel? She was the _one_ positive accomplishment in my life—until…" He growled in frustration.

"Do you know what a complete failure I saw myself as?" He said, getting emotional again. "Then you go and send her away, saying it's because of me? And later tell me she died because of that? You're damned right I sold you a skunk-butt rug! And I should have sold you a dozen more!" Nick composed himself, wiping his face. He'd broken his cardinal rule; he let it show that Antonio had gotten to him. So, what the shrew said next caught him completely off guard.

"What are your…intentions...towards my daughter?" Antonio asked. "You're good mammals, Nicky; you know her scent, and you love each other. She could not find a much better mate."

"Whaaat?" Nick said, shaking his head. "Where is this coming from, Papa? I have a mate and I'm not getting rid of her." Antonio looked offended at that.

"I would never suggest…such a thing," he protested. "What kind of talk is that? I would…never hurt little Judy like that…My little snow flower needs a…mate…and Judy wants kits around the house…It is a good…arrangement."

"Papa," Nick said, exasperatedly, "Zootopia only allows one mate per mammal, you know. And I would never do that to either Judy or Cynthia, anyway; Judy deserves my full attention and Cynthia deserves to be someone's first choice. Don't get me wrong, Papa; I'm really flattered you consider me a good mate for Cynthia, but I could never look at her as anything other than my kit sister. Not when I have Judy—and she'd probably…hurt me…if I even thought of something like that—hurt me bad."

"Perhaps I should ask Judy," Antonio said, thoughtfully. "I know how much you...respect...her opinion, and she has less...bias...in this matter."

Nick was close to panic. "No, Papa," he said. "I'm not taking another mate."

"You do not find Cynthia attractive?" the shrew asked, surprised.

"Papa!" Nick pleaded. "Stop, please."

To Nick's relief, Fru-Fru came in to the room, climbing onto the chair next to him. She looked at the tod, then at her father, curious.

"What's going on?" she asked. Antonio shook his head.

"I told Nicky he ought to marry Cynthia," he said, gravely. "He does not...agree."

Fru-Fru clapped her paws excitedly. "That's a wonderful idea!" She said. "It would be great to have the family all back together again!"

Nick stared back and forth at the two of them. "What is wrong with you mammals?" he yammered, ears flat and eyes wide.

"Come on, Nicky," Fru-Fru said. "Why not? I know you love her; don't you think she's pretty? Your kits would be absolutely gorgeous! Judy would love them!"

"You've both gone insane," Nick whined, backing up into his chair. Antonio smiled, then chuckled. Fru-Fru burst out laughing.

"Oh, Nicky!" she laughed, holding her belly. "You should see your face! Papa! You were magnificent!"

Antonio bowed. "It was not easy," he said, "keeping a straight face. Especially when I say...I should ask Judy."

Nick sat with his ears flat. "This is your idea of a joke?" he said, voice a little wild.

Antonio smiled. "It's called a hustle, my son," he said, then sighed. "But now we need to discuss more...serious matters."

* * *

 _5:22 PM_

Skye had to lean on Judy a bit to make it down the stairs, then managed to limp into the study mostly on her own. Nick was there, playing with the kits over in a corner, while Fru-Fru went over some papers with Antonio. Koslov stood by the window behind the shrew, keeping busy watching over everything, as was his norm.

The vixen froze when she caught sight of Antonio, a wide spectrum of emotions running across her face. Judy squeezed her paw lightly, smiling up at her reassuringly. Then Skye took a misstep, letting out a short yelp of pain and everyone looked towards her. Koslov was quick to scoop her up and place her gently on the couch while Nick distracted the kits to keep them from worrying.

Antonio stared at Skye, his eyes sad in contrast to his proud grin; the vixen stared back, her face hard and unyielding.

"Will you at least speak to me this time, Papa?" she demanded at last, breaking the silence, only to be confronted with more silence from her father. "Uncle Koslov, could you please take me back to my room?"

The polar bear growled. "No. This stupid!" He looked at the shrew, annoyed. "She deserve know truth! This house too long suffer this festering wound."

"No, Koslov!" Shouted Antonio. "You—"

"Enough, Antonio!" Koslov cut him off, the only mammal who dared call the shrew by his personal name. "Your pride not always serve this house well, brother!" He went over to the large desk and plucked the smaller desk out of the way, revealing the wheelchair and the shrew's withered legs. Anger melting away, Skye gasped and rushed over to her father in tears, ignoring the searing pain in her knee, picking him tenderly from the wheelchair into her arms and cradling him like a newborn kit. She couldn't keep standing, so she sank to the floor, sitting on the plush rug in front of the large desk. She cried, Antonio cried, Fru-Fru cried, and, of course, Judy cried.

"What happened?" Skye asked her father after emotions settled a bit. When he didn't answer, she knew his pride would not let him speak, so she asked Koslov instead, despite her father's attempt to protest. Koslov likewise ignored Antonio's plea for silence, so the shrew wordlessly sank into his daughter's embrace.

"We see news on TV and know trouble coming, so Antonio think go there. This before message from you," the bear said heavily. "But already North families set ambush. They never work together that way; we not suspect anything. They try kill Antonio on way to aerodrome. Dosty, Grimsby, Yasotk die on road that day; Timmy, Frank, Percy, Mortin, Grala and Karlo die when they attack house." He growled.

"It was stupid plan," he went on. "If only attack house or car, they can win. No. They try show off, make big mistake. Still, Antonio badly injured, spend months in hospital." He looked down. "He not send message to you. I send, try not upset you; I know you take care of yourself good. Antonio not wake up for weeks; when wake up, cannot walk again, and lungs bad from smoke."

Koslov sat on the couch. "When you not safe with others," he said to the vixen, "we think you dead. We later hear what happen to bosses and know you responsible, but you disappear, and we think you dead again. For long time, Antonio feel sorry for himself, want take all blame. We hear no more until you give stupid-proud-shrew phone call—and he no talk anything!"

"You and your pride, Papa," the vixen scolded her father. "Mama always said it would be the end of you! How could you let me believe all that time you had abandoned us?"

Antonio smiled weakly. "Maybe my...headstrong...little Snow Flower should have thought her father... trusted her...to take care of family business like she had...asked...him to do," he told her gently.

Koslov grunted in disgust. "You both communication problem," he said, shaking his head. "Both too stubborn to talk. Polar bears much more reasonable: Have problem? Wrestle. No more problem." He paused, then stared at Skye. "So, malenkiy; you turn, now. Why little Judy bring you here in so much secret?"

Nick whispered to Judy, "I've already heard both sides of this. I'll go take care of the kits." He sneaked in a kiss, then enticed the two young shrews out of the study with a game of hide-and-seek, while Skye retold her story to the others.

Judy sat back to watch the family dynamics with interest, never having truly seen Antonio relax before; he was a completely different mammal, lounging next to Fru-Fru, both leaning comfortably against Skye, who had curled up on the rug and wrapped her tail protectively around the shrews. The vixen outlined the events of the past few days, leaving out only the details of what they knew about Kataiahs Lysander. From somewhere in the house, the sound of a TV droned, and Judy swiveled one ear to listen to the end of a news broadcast.

 _"…To recount today's top story: The body recovered from Outback Island's Kitty Beach during this morning's Kit's Day festival has been identified as Lady Tonya Alerya Ryzhaya, daughter of Baratean Minister of Science, Lord Mardius Valentin Ryzhaya. This brings a tragic end to the long search for the Baratean Lady, who was reported missing from the famous Academy of Advanced Physics at the Plainsville Institute of Technology a month ago and escalates that missing-mammal case to a murder investigation based on wounds found on the body. This is the BBN."_

"Cheese and crackers!" Judy shouted. Everyone went silent and stared at bunny, who went over to the TV next to the door and turned it on to ZNN, where a recap of the Kitty Beach incident was underway. Skye looked at her when the story concluded, frowning.

"Too many coincidences," Judy said. Skye nodded agreement.

"There is...more," said Antonio. "When I...spoke...with the two raccoons this morning, they were...kind enough...to tell me a vixen was being searched for rather…intensively…by the local Baratean Intelligence Chief, a white wolf named...Lord Belyiklyk."

"We've met," said Skye. "He's a dangerous mammal with a matching reputation. Horrible temper, though he can be charming when it suits him, and very handsome when he isn't trying to rip your throat out. He is extremely intelligent but tends to focus too closely on his immediate objective, so he makes little mistakes you can take advantage of with careful planning. I've heard he keeps the embalmed bodies of his enemies in his quarters."

"That is a Northern custom," Antonio said. "Keeping your enemies where your...friends...can see them." He laughed. "I once had my own...collection...but Mama found it not to be in the spirit of our new home, here. The raccoons, however...did not know about Mama...So, they told me this vixen, Lady Ryzhaya I guess, brought a...device...of great importance to Lord Belyiklyk, one that is now missing. That is where Judy and Nicky come in." He looked at Judy.

"The night Nicky was...shot," he said, "you were responding to a burglary. That building is where they kept the device, awaiting...transport...to the North. The device...disappeared...that night, and the Northerners assumed...you took it."

"Why would they think that?" Judy asked. "We're cops; we don't steal things."

"The raccoons didn't have that information, I'm afraid," Antonio said. "They were...assigned...to follow you and make sure you didn't have any...suspicious...contacts. Then they were assigned to make sure you...stayed away...from your apartment long enough for…another team…to search and booby-trap it."

"Guess they did their job," Judy said ruefully.

"No, Judy," the shrew said. "They were supposed to...send word...if you did not head back to the apartment so they could...disarm...the trap for another time...The raccoons were...indisposed...so could not complete their assignment. As a result...you and Nicky...survived."

"Long live Frisky Kitties," Judy said, without humor.

"I just love that place!" said Fru-Fru. Everyone stared. "What...?"

"Things to look forward to," sighed Antonio, "when you finally have kits."

"Well, at least we know the Barateans are behind this," Judy said. "Now we just have to figure out where ZIA Operations fits in."

Antonio frowned. "I was...getting...to that," he said. "The team that booby-trapped your apartment...they were ZIA."

* * *

 _6:10 PM_

Octavio signed the final documents authorizing the operation to bring Arthur out of the Commonwealth. It was so much easier to get the wheels rolling without that bumbling Maedved to hinder him anymore. This operation would be the crowning achievement of his career, easily locking him in as the next…Intelligence…Min…

He sat frozen at his desk, still holding his pen against the document. He was acutely aware of his tendency towards tunnel-vision, even using it to his advantage as much as possible; still, he could not believe he had so completely lost perspective of recent events. Chia's passionate cries echoed through his mind.

 _"Give me…your pups…and the Empire…is yours!"_

Intelligence Minister?

He was going to be Emperor.

If he didn't screw this up.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Yes, I could have added more drama and dragged out the meeting between Skye and Antonio.**

 **But Bunnyburrow is going to get busy very soon, and I want to spend more getting that ready for you.**

 **As always, your comments are appreciated.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	21. Dinner Time

**Author's Note:**

 **I was lucky enough to find some time, so here is the next installment.**

 **It is intended as a nail-biter-at least it was while I wrote it ;)**

 **As always, your comments are welcome.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _6:20 PM_

Trina sighed contentedly, stretching her legs. Then, she winced; she was still a little sore. _'You hussy!'_ she scolded herself. _'I can't believe you actually did that!'_

 _You weren't complaining at the time_.

She blushed. _'You punched the last buck who suggested it,'_ she reminded herself, sternly.

 _I didn't care about him—and **my lynx** was just as surprised as **I** was when **you** made the suggestion._

She blushed again. _'Well, I admit I was curious—'_

 _As they say, curiosity killed the cat._

 _'Not this little kitty,'_ she smiled. _'He was quite lively.'_

 _And quick!_

 _'That's why you can still walk, you hussy!'_ she told herself, getting out of the bed. Rolled on his side, facing the wall, Kataiahs slept soundly, though an ear swiveled her way, then went back and flopped down again. The doe smiled, suppressing the urge to jump on top of the lynx. He made her feel…free.

She was thirsty, hungry, and not the least bit tired. The doe grabbed an outfit from her bag, a new one she hoped Kataiahs would appreciate when he woke up. He likely wouldn't say anything, but his eyes would give him away, following her when he thought she wasn't watching. She smiled. Now that she was paying attention to him as more than just a mentor, it was obvious to her how long he had been waiting for her to accept him. She didn't have near that level of patience.

She fought the urge to jump in bed again and smother him with kisses. Plenty of time for that before the train arrived in Bunnyburrow; now it was time to forage for food.

Trina had never taken the express train before; it was much nicer than the regular train, with a fully-glassed panoramic observation car and a dining car for each mammal size class. She headed for the small mammals' car near the end of the train, past the large and the medium class cars; the last car was reserved for rodent-sized mammals.

At the far end of the dining car, an otter served drinks behind a bar, but only one customer sat there, a handsome buck hare with stylishly dyed fur, wearing a comfortable evening suit and staring at his smartphone. Trina decided she could use a drink as well, wandering up to the bar. Looking up from his smartphone, the buck caught sight of the doe mid-way and did a double-take, making her smile; Kataiahs should have the same reaction, she hoped, pleased with her new outfit.

Feeling good about herself, she sat and ordered a shot of Carrolure, a strong liqueur made from carrots and spices. It would warm her up nicely for what she had in mind for Kataiahs later on. The buck, sitting a couple of chairs away, raised his eyebrows as she took a long sip from her glass.

"Don't see many mammals drinking that around here," he said.

"It has always been a favorite of mine," Trina told him. "Actually, it is almost the only thing I drink."

"Not even Carrote's Brew?" he asked, naming a popular beer made from carrots.

"That's not really alcohol to a bunny," she replied, smiling.

"I love your accent," he said.

"And my dress," she added slyly.

"Any shorter and I'd have to marry you," he said, raising his glass. "Very distracting—in a most pleasant sort of way." He swallowed the rest of his drink and gestured for a refill.

"That _is_ the intention," Trina said, taking another sip from her glass. The buck gave her a measuring look, surprised.

"Not for me, I assume," he said, with dramatized disappointment.

She gave him her own measuring look. "A doe could do much, much worse," she said, gallantly. "But, no; not tonight."

"Do I detect the sounds of True Love?" he said, tilting his head and raising his glass.

Trina finished her drink and signaled for another. "Am I that obvious?" she said, suddenly frustrated at how transparent her feelings were. She downed the new drink in one shot, gesturing for another. The buck whistled.

"What brought _that_ out?" he asked.

Trina downed her next shot, starting to feel the first one. "I wish I didn't love him," she said, letting her frustration show. She gestured for another drink. The bartender looked at her to be sure she really wanted one; she nodded.

"Whoa," the buck said. "That's an unusual reaction to True Love."

"Not when it is doomed from the start," she lamented. The buck downed his drink.

"I'll have one of those," he told the bartender, pointing to the doe's glass. Trina's eyes glistened, and she sat looking at her new drink on the bar, deciding what to do with it.

"Why would you ever think True Love is doomed?" the buck asked, moving to the chair next to hers. She waited until the bartender wandered away after giving the buck his drink.

"Have you ever been in love with a predator?" she said, almost inaudibly, and ashamed. The buck downed his drink, one shot, gesturing for another.

"Hard to tell," he said, misunderstanding her. "Though I have been called one more than a few times." Trina smiled, downing her drink.

"Are you...hunnnting…mme...noww?" she slurred. The buck smiled; a nice smile, she thought. He downed his drink, gesturing for two more, then passed one to the doe.

"I couldn't," he said, sadly. "You're already someone's prey." Trina sniffled.

"Thassso ssssweet," she said, then frowned. "You sssseem unhappy, too."

"I'm sorry," he said, downing his drink. "I'm caught as well, but my predator doesn't really want me; she wants someone else."

Trina raised her glass in salute. "That'ss…worssssan…mmee," she said, downing her drink. "At least mine…loves me. I jussst can't…sssstay with…him: I'm promished…to sssomeone elssse."

"Ouch!" he said, ordering two more drinks. "How does that happen to a bunny?"

"Arrrrrrangeded marriageges," she said, definitely buzzed. "I…knew before…I…you know…ssstarted…I jjusssst… he'ssssooopurrrffecct… I luvvvhimmmsssooomuchhh… now… whassabunny to do? Zppossto mrrrrysssummnnn elssse." Trina lay her head on the bar and began crying. "Ssssssnottfffairrrr! Ssssnotfffairrr!"

"It will definitely be a snot fair," he said, "if you don't stop crying." Trina glared at him.

"Yuu mekkknig ffunuvme?" she demanded.

"Of course, I am," he said. "Have to get you to stop crying before the barkeep runs you out."

"Ohhhhh," she said. "Gooooodddplan. Zzzzzzit wurkkkingg?"

"So far," he said. "How about we get you some food?"

"Yesssss. Fffuuudd. Mmmm hunnnngry bunnny."

"Let's get to a table," he said.

"Kkentttmooovvv," she told him, shaking her head emphatically. "Ssssskkkrrttttoo shhhortttt." She giggled. "Nnnno nndrrwerre." The buck didn't hesitate. He downed both drinks, took off his jacket, wrapped it around her waist, then picked her up and set her on the floor, making sure she was—somewhat—steady before leading her to a semi-private corner booth at the front of the car. He ordered two small salads for appetizers and pointed to a couple of items on the menu for the main course.

Trina devoured her salad then took up studying the buck, watching him eat with impeccable table manners. He smiled his dazzling smile at her; it was a _really_ nice smile for certain, and she found herself wanting to know more about him.

The waiter brought out the main course, and a familiar smell wafted over from the covered serving bowl. Another waiter brought out a dusty bottle and two wine glasses, setting them down on the table, cradling the bottle for the buck to see.

"Lagoute Mourphette '02," he told the rabbit. The buck nodded and the waiter deftly wiped the bottle down, uncorked it, and poured a glass for each rabbit before withdrawing. Trina knew she shouldn't, but reached for her glass anyway, taking a sip. It was delicious; sweet, with a hint of carrots and jasmine, enough to complement but not overwhelm the grapes. She downed it, and the buck quickly poured her another glass. Then he lifted the cover from the serving bowl, revealing a creamy carrot, turnip and sprouts casserole.

"Daluuvan," he told her in fluent Gran Tierrene, her native tongue. "Fit for a Queen." Trina found herself blushing...and something else.

"Howyussspeak thhlanguage?" she asked, fascinated, watching him serve the dish in proper fashion.

"Misspent youth, I suppose," he said, taking a bite. "It is really good; you should try it." She did; it was perfect! She shoveled the rest down and served herself some more.

"Bbinnnyeerrss!" she said enthusiastically between bites. "Kennntfinesppiices nZootopppya."

"You should try Ganshue's Emporium in the Canal District," he told her. "They specialize in Mid-Continental cuisine."

Trina nodded, chewing busily. The buck talked about his business, the weather, his unhappy relationship, sports, his background, all while the doe stuffed her face and drank wine, not remembering anything he said, just listening to his melodious voice. All she saw was his handsome face, strong body and perfectly trimmed ear tufts. She felt warm, very warm and… friendly, grateful for the distraction he offered from... everything.

She reached across the table for his paw, drowning in his big grey eyes, her nose twitching. There was something she was forgetting, something important, but if it were that important, she would remember it, she thought. She took another long drink of wine, reaching under the table with her foot, hidden by the tablecloth, bringing the buck's foot up between her thighs, under her skirt; she was ready for him, and he could certainly tell. He took a moment to feel her, rubbing the soft top of his foot against her damp fur. Her thighs parted to give him better access, trembling under his touch, panting lightly while staring into his eyes.

When her hips began to rock, the buck leaned over to kiss her. A waiter came by just then with the check, placing it on the table.

"Will that be all, sir?" he asked.

"Charge it to my cabin," the buck replied urgently, signing the check.

"Is the young miss alright?" the waiter asked, looking at Trina.

"A little too much wine, is all," the buck said. "I'll get her where she needs to go."

"Yes, sir," the waiter said, holding up the buck's jacket. "Have a good evening."

The buck rose, helping Trina to her feet, draping his jacket over the trembling bunny. He guided her through the dining cars, the general passenger cars, to the suite cars, at last coming to a stop and entering one of the rooms. As soon as the door closed, Trina was all over him, rubbing against him while fumbling with his clothes. He picked her up and put her on the bed, going back for his jacket. Trina ran her paws lustily over herself, chirruping her desire.

The buck laughed at the scene, searching through his jacket for his phone. "Just a moment, your Highness," he said, getting anxious. "I need...a picture of this...or no one will ever...believe me." There was a knock on the door.

The buck frowned, going to the door and looking through the peep hole. It was the waiter who had given him the check, holding up his missing smartphone. Relieved to see the device, the buck opened the door.

"Thanks," he told the waiter, handing him a twenty-dollar bill. "I was looking for this." He locked the door.

Back to business...

* * *

 _6:30 PM_

There was laughter at the table that, while not completely free of stress under the circumstances, had been long missing from the Big mansion at dinnertime. Fru-Fru had laid the foundation, as she had banished 'business talk' from the dinner table once her kits had been born. Tonight, though, even Fru-Fru's husband seemed at ease, which had rarely been the case before, and with Cynthia back in the family, Antonio felt he had, at last, succeeded as a family head. Judy and Nicky were wonderful additions, too, even if they were cops. The ZPD had actually become a real public service department since Adriene Bogo had taken over as Chief, and that made all the difference. The shrew had respect for the new ZPD, unlike in those dismal days when he had first arrived with his extended family in Zootopia, when the ZPD was actually worse than any of the local gangs. They had been the definition of 'Organized Crime.'

Fru-Fru had yielded her spot next to Antonio for Cynthia, who had started crying again at the gesture. His eldest daughter was being very emotional, Antonio noticed. Most unusual, but understandable after her recent ordeals. Once dinner was served, and tensions eased somewhat, the vixen was much more like the young kit he remembered, recounting amusing tales from her childhood. Poor Nicky took the brunt, assaulted on all sides by all three females, but he was mammal enough to handle it gracefully, never retaliating with embarrassing comments of his own, which, Antonio knew for certain, he had in more than ample supply.

Antonio was proud of Nicky. The shrew prided himself as an excellent judge of character and was sorry about his past mistreatment of the tod. He was glad his first judgment of a young fox, so many years ago, had truly been correct; he would have hated to discipline the tod. Judy was mostly responsible for that. The bunny was mammal of outstanding moral fiber and iron will. She was one Nicky could give his unwavering loyalty to and would never be disappointed in the results. Judy could depend on him, knowing he would always be there for her, regardless of circumstance, even if it killed him. They were made for each other.

Antonio sighed. Now, if they could just have kits. The shrew had only been half-joking about his proposal to Nicky concerning Cynthia, though he knew Judy would never agree. It would be a defeat to the bunny, who never surrendered without a bloody, colossal battle. Who knows? Antonio had seen stranger things happen, in his view, than a bunny having fox kits.

As dinner concluded and Fru-Fru's kits went off to bed with their father, the group went over again what they knew and what they planned to do. It was only a matter of time before the ZBI had the estate under surveillance—if they didn't already—once the ZIA released the information that Cynthia was his daughter, so Judy and Nicky would take her to Bunnyburrow. After all, the couple was officially dead, so they worked on the assumption no one would be looking for them, least of all out in the open in the Burrows. Cynthia had personal contacts in the ZIA Science and Technology division, also in Bunnyburrow, making this an optimal arrangement. She would contact them, give them the hardware she had appropriated from that despicable fox in Plainsville, and they would finally get to the bottom of this mess. They hoped.

The raccoons at the hospital should remain silent. They were more frightened—and rightly so—of Antonio than their chief. Even if not, the worst that would happen is the wolf would know they had talked to the local crime boss, which would not be unexpected given the connection between Antonio and the WildeHopps. And he would also know that Antonio harbored a grudge, a blood-debt. That, the wolf would understand.

The children would leave early in the morning, taking a brand-new SUV, bought just this afternoon, with a clean registry not tied to the Big family. The Hopps farm would be a great base of operations for them. The Hopps Clan had resources and knew how to keep quiet about family matters. Cynthia's ZIA partner had been given the clue where to find them, and if he merited half the praises his daughter sang of him, he would contact them with the all the extra support they needed to clean up this mess. They also had the backing of the ZPD and the Mayor's office.

Antonio hoped it would be enough, but he was preparing for a deeper game; he had always been the suspicious type.

* * *

 _7:03 PM_

Kataiahs stretched, looking around for Trina. She had probably gotten hungry and went to get something to eat. Her scent lingered enticingly on him, making him chuckle. She was an adventurous little bunny, for sure, with a knack for surprising him. Uninhibited, too, he thought, reviewing their last session; he'd never done that with a bunny before. He hoped she wasn't disappointed with how soon it ended. Perhaps after they tried a few more times...

His stomach rumbled. He had skipped lunch and his stomach sought revenge for that slight, so he got out of bed, dressed, and headed to the dining car.

Even before he entered, he could pick out the doe's scent from the other mammals inside. He didn't see her as he walked in the car, but his ears picked up her laugh once he had passed the booth she was in. She wasn't alone, he knew, as he picked up the scent of an unfamiliar buck from where her laughter came.

He managed to sit in the booth next to theirs, more curious than anything else. Jealousy never entered his mind, since long years of experience had taught him bunnies were not the most exclusive creatures while single. The forest bunnies of the central regions were even less so, and Trina was a healthy, affectionate young bunny, far from inexperienced. But she also was very shy with strangers, so Kataiahs wondered at the sort of buck who could break through her shell so quickly. He ordered a drink from a waiter, then sat back to monitor the doe's social interaction patterns—more commonly known as eavesdropping.

The more he heard, however, the more the lynx worried. The buck did all the talking while Trina mostly purred and giggled. Soon her scent became overwhelmingly aroused and, as the train entered a tunnel, Kataiahs' sharp eyes managed to catch a glimpse of the doe from the reflection on the opposite window. Her pupils were fully dilated, showing no response to light, and her eyelids struggled to balance between being able to see and going blind from too much light.

She had been drugged.

Kataiahs summoned a waiter, a young weasel, for his check. When the waiter returned, Kataiahs paid for his check, then gave him five one-hundred-dollar bills.

"I need you to get that buck's phone or wallet, if you can," he said, looking towards the other booth. "Hang on to it and take it back to him after he leaves; he'll probably give you a tip." The weasel nodded—for five hundred bucks he'd beat the rabbit senseless since he was pretty sure the scumbag had slipped something in that pretty doe's drink.

Kataiahs left. _Time to hunt._

He waited in the observation car, starting up a lively conversation with a lovely older tigress. After several minutes, the buck herded a barely-conscious Trina past them. Excusing himself from the tigress when the waiter appeared next, Kataiahs followed the weasel from a discreet distance until he saw him knock on the door of the buck's suite.

The weasel gave the rabbit his phone and pocketed a twenty-dollar bill in reward. He never saw Kataiahs, but he was a predator, and could smell him.

"Better hurry, dude," he said in passing. "Kick his ass."

Kataiahs had much harsher punishment in mind.

* * *

 _7:30 PM_

Octavio strolled paw in paw with Chia down the promenade towards his...No; their...quarters. The two had enjoyed their first dinner as mates, which was to say, they had eaten together in public without anyone but themselves at the table. For Octavio, eating was eating, regardless of who was there. But Chia, well, Octavio had never expected to see her look so…radiant... just from sitting alone with him. She was completely at ease—which had not been the case when they'd eaten together before—not even caring when a bit of food slipped off her fork, or when he made her laugh so hard, she ended up spilling her drink over it. She—they—were in Love.

It was truly odd to the wolf. Such a simple word with such a profound effect, even on him. He found himself wanting to please her just to see her smile, which, overnight, had become the most precious thing to him. Not for his ambition, nor name, nor honor. Just her smile. He felt foolish, angrily so, but didn't care. For all he knew, he was just her next victim since she was thoroughly ruthless, but if so, he would consider himself a success if his demise resulted in her fortune. Stupid. So stupid, he knew, but didn't care, even should his grave-marker read 'A fool in love.'

Octavio's eyes suddenly widened as he caught the sweet scent of Chia aroused. What kind of nightmare was this 'love,' anyway, that caused mammals to lose control of themselves so thoroughly? His own body betrayed him in turn, responding of its own accord to her intimate scent, something he had always been able exert control over before. He looked down at his mate who, sure enough, was looking down at his trousers in surprise, noticing that response. She looked up at him, smiling…lovingly—that 'love' word again—slowing down to a stop, knowing—by some black art or other arcane means, he was sure—that he would kiss her. Which he did thoroughly and without hesitation.

Married mammals passed them by, smiling, holding paws and drawing closer together at the sight of the wolves kissing in the wide promenade, knowing the difference between the quick, heated kisses of sexual passion and the wolves' slow, deliberate kiss of a life-mated pair. The unmarried ones felt uncomfortable at the public display of affection, some also feeling they were missing out on something. The ones among them with a sharp sense of smell couldn't help but notice the couple's arousal, and the inexperienced ones among those couldn't fathom why the wolves would delay going to their quarters to mate.

The promenade of the Baratean Embassy overlooked Zootopia Bay, and the wolves strolled over to the glass to catch the view of the passenger ships, all lit up with colorful lights, making their way South to the open ocean and whatever their final destinations might be. Octavio stood behind Chia, his arms wrapped around her, and she leaned with her head against his muscular arms, her paws folded over his. They were both utterly aroused, yet content standing there, watching the view, knowing they would spend all evening enjoying each other.

"So, this is love," Chia said, dreamily. "I did not expect it to be so intoxicating."

"It is a bit overwhelming," Octavio agreed. "I know you can feel my desire, but it is enough for me to just stand here with you." He sighed, kissing her head. "I worry this 'love' thing will distract me."

Chia wiggled playfully against him, making him groan. "I shall satisfy that desire, my lord," she promised. "As you will mine. Together, we shall make sure this love that binds us is not a distraction. It makes us one, my lord."

Octavio smiled. "You are bound to me?" he asked, not in jest, but seeking assurance and hating himself for showing that weakness. Chia turned around to face him, looking up at him.

"Yes, my lord," she said softly. "Not two days ago, I would have happily slit your throat, and I would have, my lord, had you not come to me as you promised." She sighed and took his paws in hers. "Now, I cannot see myself living without you, as terribly cliché as that sounds. If that were not enough, I find I must be completely open with you. I have no choice, my lord; it is an unbearable pain in my heart to even think of deceiving you, and I would rather be flayed alive than hurt you." He kissed her.

"You hate it as much as I, don't you?" he asked. She nodded.

"I don't know what to do, my lord," she confessed. "I have no defense against this, and I have only survived by having strong defenses. I am completely at your mercy, my lord, and that terrifies me."

Octavio smiled at her, not a friendly or amused smile. All his teeth showed, but there was no threat to her, only safety. "You are my mate," he said, possessively. "You are my life now; as you breathe, so do I. You shall never have anything to fear from me." To prove his words, he went down on his knees and raised his head to stare at the ceiling in a classic pose straight out of a period drama. Paws flying to her muzzle, Chia gasped at the gesture, her own reaction likewise mirroring countless TV shows.

Tears running from her eyes, she rubbed her cheeks along the underside of Octavio's muzzle and down his throat, painstakingly marking him with her scent. Mammals around the promenade clapped and cheered at the couple, many taking pictures and a few quicker-thinking ones even taking videos, being witnesses to something very rare that they would be able to tell their kits about.

A royal wedding.

* * *

 _7:45 PM_

Trina had slipped off her top while the buck retrieved and prepared his phone. Another knock sent the buck yelling to open the door.

"What now!" he screamed, then stared up at Kataiahs, eyes going wide with recognition. "You-you're n-not real."

Kataiahs' ears went flat; that reaction always peeved him. He lifted the buck by his neck with one paw and stepped into the suite, closing the door behind him.

"Then you have nothing to fear," he growled, his teeth a whisker's breadth away from the buck's face, squeezing his neck until the rabbit could barely breathe.

"Are you afraid?" he whispered by the buck's ear. The rabbit's loosening bladder answered the question.

The buck struggled in vain, trying to kick, but Kataiahs caught the rabbit's legs with his free arm. "You are going to die now," he calmly told the squirming rabbit. "The only question is how long it will take—and how painful it will be."

"You see," the lynx said, annoyed, "I made it clear—in writing, no less—what would happen if anyone interfered with my charges." He twisted the buck painfully around so he could see Trina, now unconscious on the bed.

"Drugging this sweet little doe qualifies," Kataiahs growled, "as I am sure you intended more than a simple tryst, seeing that you obviously know who I am, and therefore, who she is." The buck shook his head frantically and burbled denial.

"So," the lynx asked. "How much mercy do you deserve? You could have poisoned her with one of so many lethal drugs, some even painless. Did you?" The rabbit shook his head vehemently. Kataiahs sighed.

"And that is the problem," he said, sadly. "No. Instead of a quick, merciful death, you drugged my charge so you could bring her here, humiliate her, rape her, then probably strangle her—since your kind seem to like the feeling of power strangling a victim brings." He shook his head slowly, sighing, then looked down.

"I was going to ask if you had called anyone to report your find," he said, staring amusedly at the buck's phone on the floor. "But your phone appears to be unlocked, waiting for you to record your 'conquest' of this defenseless bunny, so I don't need to ask that question anymore. I can simply look for myself—Which is fortunate, indeed, since I would hate to pass up this opportunity at a great teaching moment for your brethren." He pushed the record button with his toe and flipped the phone over so it could record what was about to happen. His stomach growled again, reminding him he had not eaten yet. He would remedy that soon enough.

He always did like rabbit.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Did you enjoy this chapter? The sequencing was difficult, but I hope effectively entertaining.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	22. Next stop: Bunnyburrow

**Author's Note:**

 **Over 3000 views! Thanks, everyone!**

 **Things move along, plans get set in motion.**

 **Enjoy this next chapter!**

* * *

 _8:00 PM_

"Hello, Arthur," Jack said into his phone. "Can I take it you are up to date on this Ruzaya thing?"

 _"Ryzhaya,"_ the grey fox corrected him. _"About as much as anyone, I suppose. Real pity; she was a looker."_

"Yes," Jack said. "Quite fetching, indeed. I'm calling because ZPD has requested our assistance, seeing she was a foreign noble, and all, not to mention the Mayor's office is breathing hot down my neck wondering if we had anything to do with it. But, since that would be your bailiwick, I figured I'd give you a ring."

 _"I haven't authorized any lethal sanctions in months, Jack, if that's what you're asking,"_ Arthur replied. _"That should all be in the Committee's files."_

"Yes, well," Jack said, abashedly, "with this Skye unpleasantness in the works, our trust level isn't what it used to be."

 _"Any progress on that_?" Arthur inquired, casually. He was definitely smooth, Jack thought; not even a hint of anxiety was in his voice.

"My ops team has the Big estate under surveillance," the rabbit informed him truthfully, without giving the real reason—protection—that Kurt and Blackwell were watching the estate. "The ZBI hasn't been able to get a court order yet. Probably won't until the morning."

 _"Amateurs,"_ Arthur complained.

"Yes, they do love their legalities," Jack soothed the tod. "I'll say, however, I don't like all this Baratean activity going on, do you?"

 _"What 'activity?'"_ Arthur asked. Did the fox sound a little alarmed? Might as well push some buttons, then.

"Come on, Arthur," Jack wheedled. "I have two Baratean raccoons beaten to a pulp in the hospital, connected to the high-profile deaths of those WildeHopps officers, clamoring Diplomatic Immunity, and getting visits from none other than Lord Belyiklyk. Next, I suddenly have a Baratean noble, studying Advanced Physics of all things, at the Plainsville Institute of Technology no less, washing up on the beach with a hole in her head. This after you send me a report telling me Skye has gone rogue after visiting that same Plainsville Institute of Technology?" Jack took a deep breath. "That vixen was a Baratean noble, Arthur, studying sensitive technology. It is your _mandate_ to monitor such mammals in Plainsville, and she's been missing a month, but you don't have even one mention of her in any of your records? For crying out loud, mammal! Someone _has_ been running ops on your turf, Arthur, right under your nose, and it _wasn't_ me. Aren't you the least bit concerned?"

Arthur was silent.

 _"Well,"_ he finally said. _"When you put it all like that, Jack, you're right. It does look suspicious. I'm going to have to run an internal investigation on this. Thanks for the call. Let me know if you need any help containing Skye. It seems I have a lot of work to do."_ The line went dead.

Jack leaped and slapped the ceiling.

"Excellent work, Jack," Matilda said. "He's rattled. Now, let's see what he does."

* * *

 _8:15 PM_

Octavio was...what? Was this, happy? He lay on a new bed because Chia had refused to sleep on his polar bear rug even once more—which he couldn't understand why not: Galteiri had been a particularly large thorn in his side for years until the bear had foolishly gone too far and then accepted a duel. But Chia had told him, in her words, she 'would not sleep on his past,' so she had requisitioned, at significant effort, a new bed for them to 'make a new future together.' Oh, well. A place to sleep was a place to sleep, Octavio thought. So now they had a new bed.

It was comfortable, he had to admit.

Chia came from what, only this morning, had been his office, now converted into a dressing room, wearing her delectable wedding gown and carrying a pillow-sized, gold-threaded pouch with a rolled-up, sealed document tucked in a strap. She looked stunning, and Octavio covered himself with the sheets, inexplicably growing self-conscious about his own state of undress.

"Is my lord cold?" she asked. "I can light the hearth, if you like."

"No, that is not necessary," he answered shyly. "I just feel...underdressed. Like I should be wearing my wedding robes, or something."

Chia smiled. "My lord is not some useless palace courtier," she said. "He is a warrior." She pulled the sheets off the bed, exposing his naked body to look him over with pride. "Now he is properly dressed for his mate." She sat next to him, placing the pouch on the bed. The pouch smelled strongly of Chia and himself, Octavio noticed, intrigued as to what it could be.

"There is still something we must do," she said, straightening her posture. She pulled the document out of the strap, broke the seal, and unwrapped it. It was their Bridal Contract.

"When we first met," she said, speaking in the formal dialect used at Court functions, "you were brought to my room blindfolded, seeking a First Wife for your house with this contract, promising to breed me, to give me an honorable name, and surrender all your possessions to me in exchange for my pups to continue your line, in alliance with mine own. We entered into this pact in total darkness and silence, with only our touch and scent to guide us, without any spoken words or sight, so that our honor would be manifest to all by our actions taken only for the sake of fulfilling this contract." Octavio started to speak, but she silenced him with her paw on his lips.

"Today, you have fulfilled all of your obligations to me," she said with a sniffle, caressing his cheek. "So, I now open to you my final secret—my hopes for this union—that you might see fit to accept me as your First Wife." She took a deep breath.

"I had never seen you before, but I had heard and read much about you," she said, smiling. "I chose to meet you blindfolded as well, letting you in to my room that day because you honor the old ways, which once made our Empire great—our Empire which is now dying, unable to adapt to these changing times. I knew I could not stop this from happening by myself, that, to save it, I must become Empress to a strong Emperor, one who cares less about himself than what he believes to be right. I believed you were that one, and I accepted your knot that first night solely because of that belief, with no more expectations from our bargain than the hope of luring a mammal who could save the Empire, even knowing he might discard me, as my father did my mother. Hush, my love," she said to his attempt at protest

"I accept you have fulfilled your obligations to this Contract," she said, marking the document with her scent and handing it to Octavio. "But I have yet to fulfill mine, and there are those who would challenge my honor because of that, questioning my right to the Throne." She opened the pouch, bringing out a folded bedsheet. "I offer to you as proof of my sincerity," she said, even more formally than before, "for any who would dispute my honor, the sheet we stained together that first night, in accordance to the old ways, with my maiden's blood as surety that no mammal before you has ever known my scent." She knelt on the floor and presented Octavio the sheet with both paws.

Octavio smiled, caressing her face. "You truly know the old ways," he told her with admiration, taking the sheet from her. "Even better than I—I had completely forgotten about the Bridal Contract. Though I would say no one really cares about the old ways, anymore."

"That is their foolishness, my lord," she said. "They are still written in our laws, even if forgotten and ignored by most."

Octavio cleared his throat, sitting up. "I accept your proof," he said, also formally, "and I shall defend your honor as mine own to all challengers. I accept our Contract as valid and fulfilled. You shall henceforth be First Wife, Alpha female of House Belyiklyk." He put the bedsheet back neatly in the pouch, then marked the contract with his scent and placed it with the pouch carefully under his pillow. Chia leaned up to kiss him, then curled up comfortably on the floor next to the bed. Octavio looked down at her.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I am going to sleep, my husband," she told him, contentedly.

"I had a very comfortable rug before," he reminded her, "just for that purpose, but you persisted in telling me we need this bed."

"We do, my husband," she insisted. "I will not sleep on the floor anymore." Octavio blinked.

"But... you... are," he said, feeling like an idiot for some reason.

"Oh, this," she said. "My husband, surely you know we cannot sleep together for several weeks after the wedding." Octavio's mouth opened, then closed. "It is unseemly, my husband," she explained, watching his internal struggle play out on his face.

"Yes..." he finally said. "A newlywed female needs the time to nurse her kits and recover from labor... I know that part... but..."

"Yes, my husband?"

"You do not have any kits," he reminded her.

"I know that, my husband..." she said, beginning to understand. "But... it is... the custom."

"Perhaps the _spirit_ of the custom is what we need to observe here?" he reasoned. "We need pups to notarize the marriage, but we won't _have_ any pups with you... sleeping... down there..."

"I see your point, my husband," she said, thinking. "It is only a custom, after all, not a written tradition; we are allowed to adjust for circumstances." She smiled. "And the floor _is_ a bit chilly, tonight."

"It would also be a shame for you not to try this new bed," Octavio added, bouncing his paw on the mattress, "after going through so much trouble to get it."

"So, my husband would not object too strongly if I joined him for... the night?" she asked, coyly.

"I think our customs are flexible enough to allow it, under the circumstances," he said, laying down. Chia stood up and undressed, slowly and deliberately, setting her garments down on a chair. Octavio's arousal stood prominently on display when she finished, and she climbed onto the bed next to him, admiring it.

"It looks painful, my husband," she teased. "Shall I make it better?" Octavio groaned as she straddled him, easily slipping his malehood inside her. She leaned over for a kiss. "Isn't that better?" she whispered, rocking her hips.

Octavio's phone rang. He looked contritely at Chia. "I need to answer this," he apologized. She smiled.

"That will not stop me, my husband," she sang, moving more slowly. Octavio grinned, answering the phone.

"You took your time," he said.

 _"I've been busy,"_ Arthur replied from the other end. _"They're trying to link Tonya's death to the WildeHopps."_

"That should not be a surprise," Octavio said, "since they _are_ linked."

 _"How soon can you get me out?"_

"The better question, Arthur," Octavio said, "is how soon can you get to the border?"

Chia looked at the phone, though not stopping her motions. "Arthur?" she asked. "Arthur Foxworth?" Octavio stared at his wife in surprise as she picked the phone from his paw, set it for speakerphone, and placed it on a pillow.

"Arthur Foxworth!" she beamed. "Is that you, you handsome tod?"

 _"Lady Chia?"_ came the surprised response. _"What are you doing there?"_

"What all High Ladies do with their betrothed, Arthur," she laughed. "Making kits."

 _"I thought you would have given up by now,"_ he teased, knowing Octavio was listening.

"Oh, nonsense," she said. "There was simply some miscommunication, nothing more. Things are quite good right now; we are very optimistic. How about you, Arthur? Am I to understand you want to join civilized society after all these years?"

 _"Circumstances change, my lady_ ," the tod said. _"I find Zootopia confining these days."_

Octavio laughed. "Are you all packed?" he asked.

 _"All I need is ready,"_ Arthur said.

"You're not thinking about bringing that cold fish you unhappily married, are you?" Chia asked. "Please tell me you are ready to give up on that fantasy."

 _"I gave up on that years ago, my lady,"_ the fox admitted, sadly. _"Just kept up appearances."_

"I can understand that," Chia sympathized. "What about the kits, though? Are you going to leave them with their mother?"

 _"They are better off with her,"_ he said. _"She convinced them I was worthless long ago."_

"Arthur, darling," Chia said. "Don't be so harsh on yourself; you just married the wrong vixen, is all. Hmmm. But I have just the right one for you—you are still partial to reds, I hear."

 _"Wha-Where did you hear that_?" the tod said.

"Arthur, darling," she giggled, "who do you think sent Tonya to find you?" Octavio looked up in surprise. She winked. "Oh, sure, lord Belyiklyk recruited her; but the poor vixen had _no idea_ what to do after that. She confided in me about her assignment, and I knew just the right tod for her. You did find her pleasing, did you not?"

They heard Arthur catch his breath.

"It really is too bad about her," she said. "Though, admittedly, Tonya was not the most trustworthy of foxes, and had no respect for our customs. She kept telling me how much she wanted to be free from her father; I guess she got her wish. But, don't fret over that, Arthur; the vixen I have in mind for you is not at all like her. You remember Lady Kasani? She was barely in her teens when you were in Aurora, but, let me tell you, she has blossomed fabulously in the years since you left. Even prettier than Tonya, if you ask me. Truly sweet in nature—and really fancies older foxes; you made quite the impression on her, Arthur. She remembers you quite fondly, you know."

 _"I'm feeling a little overwhelmed,"_ Arthur said.

"Oh, nonsense, Arthur," Chia said. "You're a friend. But you understand you will have to breed Kasani, right? No permanent damage from that stone you call a wife? Can't marry the vixen if you're shooting blanks, as they say. You are still vigorous, I hope? From the occasional messages Tonya and I exchanged, I expect no problems, but I thought I would ask now, before I make the arrangements; some of our young, Northern vixens can be as demanding as a bunny, you know. Oh, and you will be Kasani's first, so you will have to train her, I'm afraid—though I am sure you will be a fantastic teacher, and she a quick study."

 _"I... don't know what to say,"_ Arthur said.

"Just do not disappoint lord Belyiklyk," she said. "I shall make you a High Lord, Arthur. It is a good thing to bring new blood into the Empire, and I have wanted to bring yours in for a long time. We shall raise up House Foxworth in exchange for just your loyalty. But, be warned, Arthur: Friend or not, I am far less forgiving than lord Belyiklyk. Now, I'm afraid I must go, darling. It would be unseemly for me to be speaking with another male when my lord knots me. It was a pleasure speaking with you again, Arthur. I expect we shall do so more in the future."

 _"Uh... certainly, my lady,"_ Arthur said.

Octavio stroked his wife's cheek. "You need to get to Bunnyburrow, Arthur," he said loudly. "The pickup point is on the western Labtierre border, on the road to Jarie. Call when you are within an hour of the border, any time after tomorrow noon."

 _"Got it,"_ Arthur said. _"Congratulations on the wedding, by the way."_ Chia laughed at the tod's cleverness as the phone went offline. Octavio shook his head.

"My husband" Chia panted. "I _am_ ready for you." Octavio held his arms open for his bride. She leaned into his embrace, biting his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, nipping at her neck, feeling his knot swell. With a final thrust, Chia brought them over the edge, sending Octavio's thoughts to wonder at what a magnificent Empress his beloved would be.

* * *

 _8:45 PM_

In his car, Arthur put away the phone, feeling better than he had... in a very long time: A glimmer of hope lay ahead, shining brightly in the darkness. He pulled into his driveway, preparing himself for what lay ahead, parking next to a red sports car.

He took a deep breath and went up to the front door, his keys jingling in his paws. The door opened before he could use them, revealing the face of a brown bear, Helenia, the housekeeper. She looked at him in alarm, shaking her head.

"Non, non, monsieur Foxworth," she said, blocking the door. "You cannot be here tonight. You know you must call—"

"Go home, Helenia," Arthur told her. "Now."

Something in his eyes, or perhaps the tone of his voice, convinced the bear to step outside and run to her car behind the house. Arthur watched her drive off, then went in, locking the door behind him. He took off his overcoat, hanging it in the usual place, and unbuttoned his suit jacket on the way to the dining room, where he could hear the sounds of conversation.

At the head of the dining table, Candace sat in the silk robe he had bought her last anniversary, laughing at something a bare-chested, large male coyote to her left had said. Her paw was over his, which she quickly withdrew when Arthur sat down on her right, across from the coyote.

"What are you doing here," she hissed. "I told you not to come by without calling first. The kits are sleeping already."

"I would expect them to be if you're 'personal trainer' has already finished polishing your tail," Arthur told her. "You've always been conscientious about the kits not finding out the truth about you."

"What truth is that, Arthur," she drawled. "That I prefer real males in my bed?"

"That you like picking up strays for the thrill of it," he told her. He looked at the coyote with pity. "You realize that you are fourth in line today, right? Last night was my contractual bi-weekly 'visiting night', so I took her—what was it, Candace? Three or four times between going to bed and dawn? I am the husband, after all. But I learned this years ago: Always bump tails with Candace _after_ going to bed, because she only showers once a day, just before laying down for the night." Candace spat an obscenity which Arthur ignored.

"After lunch," he went on, "she entertained a dingo, I believe, right, Candace? And this morning, between dingo-pup and me..." he looked at his phone, holding up a picture "...a hyena—really, Candace?"

The coyote looked very uncomfortable; Candace was livid.

"Are you spying on me now?" the vixen shrieked.

"It's my job, Candace," Arthur reminded her. He pulled out an envelope from his jacket and placed it in front of her along with a pen. "Sign it." She pulled the papers out of the envelope, looked at the heading, then laughed.

"You've lost your mind, Arthur," she laughed. "We have a no-divorce clause in our prenup, in case you forgot. I'll take you to the cleaners for this!"

"I remember," Arthur said. "Page 47, paragraph 5, subsection C, if I'm not mistaken. And your trust agreement has a no-infidelity clause on page 26, paragraph A, subsection G."

"If you break confidentiality," she threatened, "I'll have you sleeping in the sewers before daylight."

"I'm afraid we've gone too far for those threats to work anymore," Arthur said. The coyote made to stand up, but Arthur held up his paw. "Not quite yet," he told the coyote.

"Hey, mammal," the coyote said. "This is between you and Candy; not me."

"Sit," Arthur said firmly. The coyote leaned over the table, snarling.

"You don't tell me wha—" Arthur pulled out a silencer-fitted gun from his jacket and shot him in the forehead, sending the coyote flying backwards over the chair, spraying blood and grey matter all over the wall. Candace sat frozen in shock, back-splatter dripping down from her face. Arthur put the weapon back in his jacket and pulled out another envelope which he tossed to Candace.

"Prenup, page 48, paragraph 1, subsection K allows for divorce in case a felony is willfully committed by one of the spouses," he explained. Candace looked at him, uncomprehendingly. "Your 'personal trainer' is—was—an operative of the RSID."

"Whaaat?" she slurred.

"He was a spy for the Ruylanian government," he told her.

"I... didn't... how could I know that...?" she stammered. "You... you... killed him."

"Yes, I did," Arthur said. "It's all in the envelope, Candace. Lethal action authorization against a hostile foreign operative. I signed it myself, half an hour ago." The vixen did a double take.

"Sleeping with a spy is not a crime," he told her. "But you obviously didn't pay attention to the briefing you received—and signed off on—from Mammal Resources when I assumed my post here in Plainsville." He shook his head. "You _willfully_ gave out the schedule and itinerary of the ZIA Operations Director; _that_ is treason, Candace—all so you could have your tail scratched by some mutt." The vixen was completely aghast, looking over the papers Arthur had given her, with page after page of her in explicit, compromising positions with various mammals, in the house and many other places.

"I-I don't... understand," she said. "How... When...?"

"Did you think I wouldn't know what you were doing?" Arthur asked. "I've always known, Candace; since even before we were married."

"You... never complained..." she said, confused.

"Would it have made a difference?" he asked. She dropped her head.

Arthur sighed. "I know I wasn't the best husband, Candace. But all I ever wanted was for you to be happy," he said. "Any time you needed me, I made time for you; you wanted something, I got it for you; you wanted to go somewhere, I took you. And we were happy, for a few months, remember? But you wanted... I don't know. You never talked about it, would never go to counseling, would always deny anything was wrong, and generally put up an act."

"Are you going to kill me, too, Arthur?" she asked, accepting her fate.

Arthur sighed. "Why would I do that, Candace?"

"Then, what, Arthur?" she pleaded, trying hard not to look at the body of the coyote.

"Sign the divorce papers."

"I'll lose everything," she cried. "How will I live?"

"The house is paid for; so is your car. The kits' trust fund is fully vested, and so is their college savings plan. Get a job, and you'll be fine."

"Work?" she said, scandalized. "What will I do?"

"Well, you won't be picking up any more strays for a while," Arthur said, dryly. "Sign now, and the infidelities stay out of the proceedings. I listed 'irreconcilable differences' as the reason for the divorce—and that is the truth, isn't it? It also grants you full custody of the kits; that way you can keep enough of your trust fund to support you, if you are careful. But you need to sign the papers now, Candace; once the ZBI gets here, I turn over _all_ the documents, including the photos." Emphasizing the need for urgency, they could hear sirens approaching in the distance. With a sigh of defeat, Candace took the pen Arthur proffered and signed the documents. He let her keep the photos.

"Go upstairs and clean yourself up," he told her, gently. "Don't let the kits come down; I'll handle the rest."

The vixen stood up, still shaken, staying clear of the dead body. "I did love you, Arthur," she said, softly.

"I know," he said sadly, watching the flashing lights quickly approaching down the driveway. "But it's over now."

* * *

 _8:50 PM_

The pattern of the knocks let Kataiahs know that Zeke and Gret were on the other side of the door. He opened it, letting them into the cabin.

"Cutting it close, boss," Zeke said, putting down a heavy duffel bag. "We almost didn't make it to that last stop. We have forty-five minutes to Tri-Burrows Station." He glanced around. "Where's the body?"

Paw over his mouth, Kataiahs belched contentedly.

Zeke raised his eyebrows. "Either he was a shrew or there are leftovers," he said with a grin. The lynx pointed to a large rollout travel bag in the corner.

"You gonna keep it?" Zeke asked.

Kataiahs considered that for a moment. "I don't believe Trina would handle that very well," he said.

"I think she'd join you at the table, after what he did, sir," Zeke disagreed. Gret went over and kicked the bag hard a few times. "Feel better?" Zeke asked him.

"Yes," Gret said, kicking the bag again. He went over to the bed, where Trina lay unconscious, shaking and sweating, curled up tightly into a ball. He took a tiny device from his pocket and maneuvered it over the bunny's nose, where it immediately glowed a deep purple.

"Metrapozine," he said, shaking his head. "Very high dose. Wow, is she going to feel that when she wakes up." He put the device back into his pocket and went over to kick the 'leftovers' bag again.

Zeke walked around, examining the suite closely. "Looks like you cleaned it up pretty good, sir," he said. "Why'd you call us?"

"Bathroom," Kataiahs said, embarrassed. Zeke went and opened the door to the small bathroom, letting out a long whistle. Gret looked over and laughed.

"Pizza-Cutter 5!" he said, naming a popular slasher-film.

"Get Trina to your cabin, sir," Zeke said. "Look after her; we got this." He opened the duffel bag, pulling out two sets of plastic coveralls and industrial-strength cleaning supplies.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next stop: Bunnyburrow.**

 **As always, comments are welcome.**

 **Until next time, thanks for reading!**


	23. Arrivals

**Author's Note:**

 **I had some fun with this chapter. I hope you enjoy it as well.**

* * *

 _9:05 AM_

The long drive from Zootopia to Bunnyburrow could take between five and seven hours. Taking the train could bring that time down to 4 hours—or three, if one wanted to schedule their trip around the limited BurrowDirect timetable. Nick and Judy preferred the freedom of travel times allowed by driving, and usually managed the voyage in that five-hour figure.

From the Big estate, the drive had only taken three and a half, since they had left before dawn and didn't have to navigate through the city and its sprawling suburbs. Mamishka had fed them to overflowing before leaving and packed them an ample travel basket as well, the matronly polar bear solidly of the mind that food solved all problems, and the more food, the better the chance of solving the problems.

It had been a quiet trip. Skye slept most of the way curled up in the laid-flat back seat of the comfortable SUV, while Judy and Nick took turns between driving and sleeping. Now, getting close to their destination, Skye sat looking out the window, marveling at the wealth of colorful flowers and lush greenery covering the rolling hills of the Bunnyburrow countryside. The trees showed the telling signs of autumn, their leaves starting to turn a variety of colors, many bright and cheery among the prevalent muted browns and golds. "I have always taken the train," Skye said. "I never knew how beautiful the drive could be."

"Well, we usually take the train, too," Judy confessed from behind the steering wheel. "But driving gives us more freedom, when we have the time."

"And the _only_ chance of avoiding The Kerfuffle," added Nick somberly as they approached the Hopps Family Farm.

They turned onto the farm's mile-long private driveway, Judy using a remote on her keychain to open the gates, two massive, carrot-shaped steel gratings that swung inwards. Nick's ears lay flatter the farther down the flower-edged paved road they went. As they neared the massive hill the Hopps Clan made their burrow in, Skye could pick out cleverly designed windows and doors protruding from out of the ground as if they were natural parts of the hill itself.

Flowers gave way to white, carrot-shaped, picket fence backed by neatly trimmed shrubs to separate the driveway from the perfectly kept front yard on the driver's side. Two massive trees, their branches so intertwined at the top as to appear one, arched over a yellow brick path wide enough for three elephants, leading from the driveway to the burrow's front entrance, where two large wooden doors stood beneath a warm-colored WELCOME sign lettered with painted wooden carrots. Judy stopped several feet away from the trees and honked the horn twice.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Nick shouted, looking up in alarm.

It started, as such things always do, very small, almost unnoticeable: a single ripple in Skye's water bottle. The vixen stared quizzically at the expanding ring, watching it dissipate against the sides of the container. Then another ripple followed…

"Impact tremors," Nick whispered in explanation, looking around nervously. Suddenly his ears perked up, catching the dreaded sound.

"UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNCCCCLLLE NNNNNIIIIIICCCCKKK!"

The tod glared at his mate. "You _called ahead_?" Judy stared down guiltily at her paws, nose twitching remorsefully.

"I had to," she said heavily. The car began to tremble.

"Traitorous bunny," he accused. Judy sighed, smiling with pity.

"Sacrificial fox," she explained, gently laying a paw on her husband's face. "You stand a chance if you run now," she urged her mate. Nick glanced around her, catching a glimpse of tiny bunny ears rising over the horizon like a tsunami, heading straight for the SUV.

"You…" he said, shaking his head, then popped off his seatbelt and opened the passenger door in a single motion before vanishing up the driveway in a flash. The approaching bunny wave instantly veered away from the car, homing in on the fleeing tod, quickly picking up speed and gaining ground as The Kerfuffle caught sight of its prey.

Skye watched with open-mouthed fascination at the near-endless stream of young bunnies racing past the car in frantic pursuit of Nick. As the trailing edge of the horde finally went by, the vixen opened the door and hobbled out, looking up the driveway at a loud, growing mound of bunny kits where the hunt had reached its inevitable conclusion.

"Wait!" Judy shouted desperately after the vixen, but she was too late.

The last of The Kerfuffle, a tiny grey and white kit in a pink one-piece, carrying a miniature stuffed red fox, turned her head and saw Skye. The effect was dramatic and immediate. Skidding to a stop and turning around mid-stride, the kit's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, staring mesmerized at the vixen.

And, for a brief moment, all was quiet but for the muffled cries for help seeping from under the writhing mass of bunnies up the driveway.

"Purrrrty!" the kit cried out, breaking the spell. Collectively, as one, the ocean of bunnies swung their heads towards the kit now drifting slowly towards the arctic vixen. The mountain slowly crumbled as The Kerfuffle spread out to catch a better glimpse of what had captured the attention of their smallest member.

Skye knelt and held her arms open for the little kit, who happily climbed up into the vixen's embrace. Stepping out of the SUV, preparing for the worst, Judy's thoughts went from panic to warm delight as the kit snuggled comfortably against Skye with a contented smile.

The vixen turned to Judy, her face a mask of pure joy. "She is absolutely _adorable_!" she said with wonder.

Eerily slow, the Kerfuffle inched ever closer towards the vixen. Left behind in their wake, as a puddle is after the rain, a disheveled Nick crawled to his knees, gasping for breath, his right paw stretching out towards Skye.

"RUUUN!" he urged, collapsing to the ground, chest heaving mightily. Judy was torn between running to the aid of her fallen mate and protecting her injured friend. The Kerfuffle was dangerously close now.

But the unexpected never ceased to amaze Judy.

The leading edge of the horde dropped to the ground, one by one, sitting calmly an arm's length away from the vixen, smallest members at the front. Within moments, Skye found herself surrounded by an impenetrable wall of wide-eyed kits. The fluffy tip of her wonderfully long tail gently brushed their cheeks, not missing a single bunny.

The cool morning air vibrated with the drone of myriad purring bunnies.

Suddenly remembering her mate, Judy rushed over to scrape Nick off the driveway.

"Did she... make it?" murmured Nick. Judy kissed him.

"Thanks to you, my hero," she said. "You blunted the spear." She gently turned his head so he could see for himself. Nick sighed contentedly and passed out.

* * *

 _9:09 AM_

Jack stepped off the train, breathing in the fresh country air. It was colder here in Bunnyburrow without the climate controls of Zootopia and Jack wished he had dressed in something warmer. He stretched his arms, already feeling more relaxed; there was just something about Bunnyburrow that universally appealed to bunnies. Jack thought it was the complete, blatant dedication to everything 'bunny,' though it could get on his nerves on occasion. Carrot-shaped public transit buses pushed the limit in Jack's book, and the moron who designed the crawling-bunny-shaped, rear-loading trash collection trucks ought to be shot.

He left the station, making his way to the Snarlbuck's across the street. At a table outside, sitting in the sunlight, a dark russet fox typed and swiped wildly on a CarrotPro pad. Jack sat across from him and cleared his throat.

"Oh, I'm fine," the fox said, not looking away from the screen. "Just waiting for someone." Jack cleared his throat again, this time causing the tod to look up.

"Oh, wow!" he said, face lighting up. "Jack Savage, here, in the flesh, live, in person!" He gasped, then looked down. "Mammal, this is awkward!"

"What is?" Jack asked, perplexed.

"Well, I mean… it's you," the tod said, pointing to the buck. "You know... Skye's boyfriend..."

"I'm not her boyfriend," Jack said, frowning.

"Well, I don't think she knows that," the fox said, doubtfully. "I mean, sure, we spent two sweaty days locked in a hotel room. But all she talked about is 'Jack likes this,' or 'I like doing this to Jack.' It was hard to concentrate, if you know what I mean; felt like a stand-in, most of the time. Oh, but that thing with the tail... wow... you know, how she wraps it around you when—"

Jack held up a paw, interrupting. " _Now_ , you're making it awkward, Reggie."

"Oh, haha, sorry," Reggie said, blushing. "Can't always keep that disconnect between my brain and my mouth."

"Never mind," Jack said, flagging a waiter and ordering a large espresso. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"Probably to attend the Directors' meeting," the tod guessed.

Jack frowned. "What Directors' meeting?"

"The one..." Reggie noticed Jack's expression. "You weren't invited?"

"Apparently not," Jack concluded. "How is it _you_ know about it?"

"Head of IT," Reggie said with a shrug. "I pretty much know everything. I mean, I thought you just needed a ride to the Center this morning—though I was worried you might be mad at me, you know, for bumping tails with Skye for those two, wet, wild, unforgettably erotic and incredibly... I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

Jack nodded.

"Sorry," the tod said. "So, if you're not here for the Directors' meeting, why are you here?"

Jack paused for the waiter to leave after setting down his coffee. "Skye is on her way here, to Bunnyburrow," he said.

"No way, dude!" Reggie said, dropping his CarrotPro on the table. "How can you _possibly_ know that? She's a wanted mammal! Dead or alive! I mean, they are _seriously_ out to get her!" Jack was staring open-mouthed at the tod's wallpaper: Skye, in only her white winter fur, spread out luxuriously on a couch, all her glory revealed, long tail draped over her back and around her neck like a scarf, with the fluffy tip playfully tucked in the corner of her mouth. Reggie quickly reached over and turned off the display.

"Now, that's _really_ awkward," he said, smiling nervously, then looking in alarm at Jack. "You're not going to kill me, are you?"

"What? No. Don't be an idiot," Jack said, regaining his composure. "At least I know she trusts you." He glared at the fox. "But if I _ever_ see that picture anywhere else, I'll know who to come looking for."

"Uhm. Yeah. Understood. Crystal. Clear," the fox stammered. "So, why _is_ she coming here?"

"My guess," Jack said, "is to see you."

"Come on, Jack," Reggie laughed. "Get real! We had a couple of wild nights, but I don't think it merits another visit when there's a death warrant..." Jack's face said it all. "OK. Shutting up, now."

Jack sighed. "She is bringing you a secure phone to crack," he said. "Likely something more, as well. I'm not sure." His ears drooped down to his shoulders. "I haven't spoken to her in a couple of days."

"Cheer up, mammal," Reggie said. "She's a very resourceful vixen. She's going to be fine. We'll make sure of it; don't you worry at all, Jack. In the meantime, what's the plan?"

Jack smiled. "It seems I have a meeting to crash," he said.

* * *

 _9:14 AM_

Trina woke up to a blinding headache. Wherever she was, it was pitch black and quiet, thank whatever powers that be. She was naked, her throat parched, her mouth tasting like something died in it, and she seriously needed to pee. She tried to sit, then concluded it was a really bad idea as she fought back a sudden wave of nausea

Her nose twitched, smelling herself. She reeked of sweat, booze, and... sex. Memories of the dining car replayed themselves in her head: She saw herself losing control, drinking way too much with a handsome, sympathetic buck... fuzziness... food from home? Delicious wine... fuzziness... arousal... blackness.

 _Oh, you stupid, stupid, good-for-nothing **tramp!** What did you do?_

 _Where are you, for that matter?_

Slipping past her headache, the sounds of someone breathing close by told the bunny she wasn't alone. Heart pounding, she started to panic, the primal instinct to flee clamoring for attention by first heightening her senses. She could pick out the rhythm of the mammal's heartbeat now—right next to her—and the scents around her exploded in detail.

And the first one she noticed was the scent mingling with her own, permeating her fur: It was not the slightly sweet smell from sex with a buck; it was the sharper, uniquely spicy scent of... **_him_**.

 _Her lynx._

She managed to calm down when she focused on the heartbeat of the mammal next to her. It wasn't the fast, drumming heartbeat of a rabbit, but the slower, more pronounced one of a larger mammal. And the breathing pattern was the familiar, soothing pattern of... her _beloved_. She began to cry with relief.

"Oh, bollocks," came the exhausted, desperate voice of _her lynx_. His paws deftly took hold of her tail and expertly pulled it upwards with a gentle, twisting motion that Trina had no idea was even possible, completely... exposing her. She was wide open to his advance as he drew himself against her, pressing his...

"It's... not... working...," Kataiahs mumbled, even more desperately. She could feel him trying to coax his unresponsive malehood, going to great lengths in the effort. After a several unsuccessful attempts, he sighed in defeat. "I... can't..."

Trina couldn't help but laugh at his tone of voice. Kataiahs heard her, and wrapped his arms around her, purring and nuzzling her with a vengeance.

"You're awake," he said with almost-comical relief. "Please, tell me you're awake."

"I am, sir," she said weakly. "Could you turn on the lights, please? I desperately need the toilet and several gallons of water."

"Hmmm. About the light," he said, kissing her and stroking her ears. "Do not be alarmed, my dear, but the curtains are all open, and it is broad daylight outside—the sun is quite cheerful this morning, too."

"I'M BLIND?" She exclaimed, starting to hyperventilate.

"Only for a few more hours," he told her quickly, holding her close, "Nothing to get upset about, my dear—think of it as an unscheduled solar eclipse."

Trina nudged him with her elbow. "You might have told me it is temporary first, sir," she said, settling down.

"Oh. Sorry about that," he apologized. "You are quite right, my dear; it has been a very long night. Can you sit?"

She tried again, going slower this time with his help, and managed to sit with only a slight wobble. Kataiahs picked her up, gently carrying her to the toilet, then went over to the bathtub to run a hot bath. He left momentarily, coming back soon with two large squeeze bottles of electrolyte drinks, pressing one into Trina's paws. She drank greedily, emptying the bottle in one shot.

"Some aspirin would do me wonders, sir," she said, accepting the second bottle.

"We'll have to wait on that, I'm afraid," he told her. "We need to purge your system before we can safely add anything else to the mix."

"Purge?"

"Yes, my dear. You have been drugged."

"Drugged?" She said. "Why, that little f—" Kataiahs put a finger on her lips.

"Such a beautiful bunny shouldn't resort to those kinds of words," he told her with a gentle kiss. "The buck in question has been... dealt with."

"Did the police get him?"

"Oh, nothing that complicated," he said, picking her up. "I took care of it myself." He stepped into the bathtub with Trina in his arms, sitting down with her in front of him. The doe sighed, worrying about what trouble she might have caused.

"Don't fret, my dear," he told her, lathering her back liberally with a soothing, jasmine-scented fur shampoo. "He won't be bothering anyone anymore. Since you were gone when I woke, I naturally went looking for you in the dining car." The doe was very tense, so he put some effort into massaging the knots out of her back and shoulders. "I noticed you laughing with him, apparently having a good time, so I thought you might want some privacy."

"But you looked decidedly unwell as you left," Kataiahs went on, kneading her shoulders, "so I followed you to his room and knocked, just to assure myself you were alright. After he opened the door, however, it was obvious you had been drugged, so I took the time to have a most serious conversation with the chap." He paused, shifting his paws to her lower back. "Believe it or not," he mused, "he turned out to be a remarkably attentive listener, never interrupting, and he seemed genuinely repentant after I explained the errors of his ways. It was quite effective, really; the experience changed his life, you might say. Then I had dinner in his cabin and brought you back to our room."

Trina harrumphed. "I find that hard to swallow, sir," she said, finally relaxing under his persistent ministrations.

"Oh, it may seem a little much to digest," he said, now working shampoo onto her arms. "But it wasn't all that hard: I simply tackled the problem one bite at a time."

* * *

 _9:20 AM_

Jethro and Kevin, Judy's two biggest brothers, carried Nick into the burrow. It was a painful task, with the tod repeatedly slammed into walls and door frames since the rabbits found it hard to keep their eyes off Skye and her hypnotic tail. The vixen left a trail of dumbstruck bucks along the way, several developing spontaneous nosebleeds, as she followed Judy to the kitchen in search of Judy's parents.

Like the tail of a comet, The Kerfuffle streamed along, quietly and peacefully behind Skye, causing double-takes from the adult females. Many of them clapped in awe at the sight of the tamed kits, while the vainer ones among them burst into tears as their illusions about their own beauty came crashing down in the presence of the unassuming vixen, cuts and all, limping down the halls in plain exercise sweats cuddling the youngest Hopps kit in her arms.

The young doe, Cassy, was explaining in detail about her own little fox, who just happened to have 'Nicklas' as his name. Skye found herself imagining how it would be if Cassy was her own kit. She was so absorbed with the little doe that she had completely forgotten about her bag, her injuries, her reason for being in Bunnyburrow. She pictured herself, walking around a flower garden in the spring, leading the kit by the paw, teaching her about the different varieties and chasing the butterflies floating around them in their graceful dance… with Jack at her side.

"Are you sad?" Cassy asked, interrupting her thoughts. "Mommy says we cry when we're sad."

"Oh, no, sweetheart," Skye said, sniffling once. "I'm not sad."

"Does your leg hurt a lot?" the kit went on, trying to solve the mystery of Skye's tears. "Mommy also says we cry when we're hurt."

"Just a little bit, sweetie. It's almost all better, now."

"One of my aunt's a doctor," Cassy informed her. "She could make it all better right now. She made my tummy not hurt. But she's not here. She's in Zupotia."

"She must be nice," Skye said.

"Yeah. She's really nice. You're nice, too. Aunt Judy's also nice. Uncle Nick's funny. You're really, really pretty. Do you think I'm pretty?"

"I think you are _beautiful_ ," Skye said, nuzzling her head.

"Your fur is really soft," Cassy giggled. "Can I touch your tail? It looks _really_ fluffy. Mommy says I should always ask before I touch someone's tail."

"Your mommy is right," Skye said, arching her tail high over her shoulder to rub the tip across Cassy's cheek. The little doe hugged the fluffy appendage while behind them, another dull thud preceded a quiet groan from Nick. "You should only let special mammals touch your tail."

"Do you think _I'm_ special?" the doe asked, eyes wide.

"I certainly do," Skye told her, tickling her nose.

The kitchen was a busy place, unsurprising when over six hundred bunnies, spanning four generations, lived under the same hill. Judy made her way to the large, center counter where her mom sat overseeing 'the operation', as they called kitchen duty. Bonnie waved cheerfully at her daughter, but unlike she usually did, she stayed sitting down. Judy came around and saw why.

"Mom!" she exclaimed, seeing a very pregnant Bonnie. "What did you do?"

Bonnie waved her paw. "Oh, not much, dear," she said. "Your father did most of the work, bless his heart. I just didn't tell him I stopped taking my pills—and started cleaning our room with no underwear on." She giggled like a schoolkit. "Your dad should have guessed something was up when he kept finding me crawling around, scrubbing the floor every evening when he came out of the shower."

"You weren't being fair at all, Bonnie," Stu complained, overhearing his wife as he came into the kitchen from the back door. He gave his mate a hug and kiss while tenderly stroking her extended belly. "Scheming on your husband like that! You never even told me you wanted another litter!"

"We talked about it, honey, since last year," Bonnie reminded him, drolly, then to Judy. "Poor Stu's been a little distracted since Gramps got sick this spring." Stu shrugged, admitting Bonnie's point.

"I wanted them before winter sets in," Bonnie told Judy, "so I had to do something, and I know how excited your father gets when my tail's up in the air, wiggling." She smiled. "Gets a rise out of him, every time." Stu grinned, kissing her head.

"Cheese and crackers, Mom!" Judy said, covering her ears. "I'll have that image burned into my mind forever."

"Oh, you're such a prude," Bonnie teased her daughter. "And a married bunny, at that! Makes me worry that poor Nicholas might be getting cold at night. Can't be having that from one of my lovely does."

Skye laughed at Judy's scandalized expression, and her rich laughter drew the attention of everyone nearby—especially the bucks. Bonnie looked around, frowning. "Best have a talk with the bucks, Stu. Remember the does when Judy brought Nicholas around that first time." Stu nodded, agreeing with her.

The Hopps matriarch smiled at Skye. "Oh, my, but you sure are pretty one, dear," she said. She looked closer at the vixen, from head to toe, nose twitching, then smiled wider. "Oh, my precious! Is it your first one?" Skye's eyes went wide, and her ears flattened in alarm. "I never would have guessed," Bonnie said, looking around to The Kerfuffle, sitting quietly all around the vixen, "by how well you managed the kits. Even little Cassy, seems to have taken a liking to you, and she's a picky one."

"Gramma!" whined the little doe in Skye's arms. "M'not picky! I just like nice mammals. Aunt Skye is _really_ nice; she thinks I'm _special_." She looked up at the vixen. "Is it OK to call you 'Aunt Skye'? Should I have asked first?"

Skye nuzzled her head. "Of course, you can call me 'Aunt Skye,'" she said. "That would make me very happy, Cassy."

Calls of "Can you be my 'Aunt Skye'?" immediately echoed throughout The Kerfuffle, and Skye began to cry, overwhelmed at the kits' open acceptance of her. Bonnie chuckled.

"She is such a darling," she said to Judy. "That leg is a bit wobbly, though; why don't you get her over to the big table, dear? We've gone six months in the kitchen without an accident, and your sisters would be so disappointed if we have to start the clock over. They're trying to beat the record we set when you were helping me out. Where's Nicholas, by the way?"

* * *

 _10:30_ AM

Chia looked on with satisfaction as the embassy's taxidermist delivered the embalmed Maedved to her and Octavio's quarters. He had done a marvelous job, especially considering it was an overnight request, perfectly capturing the Polar bear's arrogant stance and set of the jaws.

Chia had spent the morning working on her husband's collection, subtly rearranging the displays to achieve a sense of increasing respect from visitors, rather than simply fear—a display of obstacles cleverly overcome, rather than of enemies mercilessly destroyed.

Octavio's prized Polar-bear rug was no longer a part of the collection. Servicing females on it had been a continuous insult to the bear and his family, and that was no longer something Octavio thought worthy of doing. All on his own, Octavio had decided during the night to return the pelt to the family for proper burial. Chia was very proud of that growth in his character, turning away from mammal's perception of him as a bully; she had chosen her husband well.

The taxidermist left, making way for the legal attaché, a reindeer, who had several documents for Octavio to sign. Chia noticed the top document was the disposition determination of Maedved's estate, for Octavio to assume ownership or turn it over to the Empire.

Chia could not take her eyes away from the document; there was something she had read once, when she had studied the Law and Traditions texts. Luckily, she remembered what it was before the officious reindeer left. She questioned him at length, making it appear as macabre curiosity to him, and verified that what she was thinking to do was 'technically legal', as the reindeer put it.

But the Law _was_ all about technicalities, wasn't it?

Now, would Octavio go along with it? She doubted she could ever bring herself to do such a thing, but her husband (she relished that word) was stronger than she in that way. He would sacrifice this for her when she outlined her thinking: He was a most reasonable mammal when approached the proper way. She felt herself worrying, wondering how far she would be willing to go in showing her appreciation to win Octavio's cooperation, then stopped and smiled. She was in love. She no longer saw _any_ limits to how far she would go for Octavio. She would be _very_ demonstrative with her appreciation.

What a wonderful thing, love was!

She had to hurry. This was a time-sensitive matter, and she had a lot of work to do before Octavio returned for lunch.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Maybe some was over the top. It was meant to be ;)**

 **It's going to be a busy day for everyone.**

 **As always, comments are welcome.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	24. Busy Morning

**Author's Note:**

 **This chapter came together quick. Already busy at work on the next.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _10:25 AM_

Sitting on the table in the burrow's infirmary, Nick took the icepack Jethro offered and put it on his head, wondering what had happened to him while he was out. He'd never ended up this badly battered by the kits before; it felt like someone had used his head and shoulders as a battering ram. He might even have a concussion, judging by all the knots on his head.

Jethro and Kevin avoided his gaze, probably ashamed of the way The Kerfuffle had mistreated him, Nick thought. He figured Cynthia must be in hiding to keep her from suffering the same fate.

Judy stormed in, ears down, staring daggers at her brothers, who made a quick exit out the door under her wrathful gaze. She hopped onto the table and examined Nick's pupil response with a carrot-shaped penlight.

"No concussion," she told her mate with relief, putting the penlight down. She sat on his lap and gave him a serious kiss. "Sorry you took the brunt of that." She kissed him again. "I'll make it up to you." He looked at her skeptically, not buying it, but she whispered into his ear what she had in mind and his tail started wagging enthusiastically.

"Can you make it to the kitchen, Slick?" she asked him. Nick put his free arm around her.

"I think I need a couple of minutes to recover," he said, stroking her back. She leaned against him, enjoying his touch.

"We're not doing it in the infirmary," she said firmly, feeling his arousal building up against her crotch.

"Our room is fine with me," he suggested. "I think I can make it that far."

"You'll get your chance, loverkit," she promised. "Tonight." She hopped down and headed to the door.

"You know you want me," Nick cajoled.

Judy looked over her shoulder, tail wiggling. "And I always get what I want," she said, licking her lips.

"Yes, ma'am," Nick said, rearranging his pants before following her out the door, his tail wagging. Once in the hallway, however, a growing sense of unease stilled his tail and made his ears lower. He closed the distance between him and Judy, then casually took place slightly in front of her.

At first, Judy didn't make anything of this, but then she noticed his paw kept hovering where his dart gun normally was when they were on duty. This immediately put her on guard, scanning with her ears and making her wish she had worn her weapon. She clicked her tongue in their signal for 'talk to me'.

"Something's wrong," Nick whispered. "I don't like it. It's quiet."

Judy listened, her own sense of unease growing. "Too quiet," she agreed. There were always sounds of bunnies going about in the burrow. Even in the middle of the night, someone was always trudging to the bathrooms, or sneaking to the kitchen for a snack.

"Let's get to the armory," Judy said, leading the way. Every burrow had a few, simple weapons for protection against robbers and wild animals. Some also had heavier weapons as part of their Bunnyburrow Civil Defense duties, and the members of the Hopps Clan had always been serious believers in the Civil Defense Corps. There was a respectable collection of military-grade hardware in the burrow, all kept under biometric lock in a secure room in the center of the hill.

Getting to the armory would take them past the main living hall. If trouble had somehow reached the inside of the burrow, it would likely be focused in there, since the area was large enough to round up and seat all the inhabitants living under the hill. The design of the burrow took this into account, however, so Judy and Nick should be able to pass by without being seen.

The two approached the hall using all the skills they had learned in the line of duty. Nick couldn't pick up any unusual scents, nor Judy any unusual sounds other than the suspect quietness. All that was left was to open the door to the top promenade so they could reach the armory in the middle. As usual, Nick would open the door so that his smaller mate could sneak through undetected. He held up three fingers and put them down one at a time, then opened the door quietly and Judy scampered through on all fours.

Immediately, her ears shot straight up, and she rose to her feet, looking down open-mouthed over the guardrail into the main hall, seemingly paralyzed. Nick didn't hesitate, going through the door after her to bring her away before she was discovered. He had almost reached her when his ears perked up, catching an unexpected sound. His arms were around Judy, about to pull her away, when the sound clarified into a familiar voice, making him look over the guardrail as well.

The entire burrow was there, all right, eyes focused on the center stage, where Cynthia held a kit in her lap—Cassy, Nick recalled—surrounded by The Kerfuffle. Down to the smallest, the mass of kits listened in rapt attention, occasional "ooh's" and "ahh's" sounding while the vixen masterfully told them the story of "The Fobbit."

Adults watched the stage with just as much attention, though for many different reasons, ranging from interest in the story to amazement at the Kerfuffle's behavior to fantasizing about having the vixen's tail wrapped around them.

Nick stood speechless. Then his ears flattened, a nagging suspicion building in his mind. He looked down at his mate, his eyes narrowing in accusation. Judy's face lit up with a silly grin.

"Imagine that," she stammered. "They're so calm around her."

"You..."

She took his paw, tugging him away from the guardrail, urging him towards the far door leading to the dormitories. "Oh, well," she said with a forced laugh. "Looks like everyone's busy. How about we go sneak into our room for a while..."

* * *

 _11:00 AM_

Jack walked in the tall, cylindrical, glass-and-steel building of the ZIA Science and Technology division, which also was home to the Bunnyburrow ZIA Field Office. He made it quickly past the entrance security checkpoint, before anyone recognized him, striding confidently to the private elevator that led to the upper floor where the senior-level offices were.

The guard at the elevator didn't recognize him, but the doors opened to his pawprint, so he nodded and let him pass. Jack didn't know what to expect; Reggie had said the memo called for the urgent meeting but didn't list an agenda. Nor had the memo been addressed as coming from any particular director, originating instead from the general Director's group.

He walked straight to the conference room, opening both doors at once to make a more dramatic entrance. Around the main table sat Wile Eastmore, the coyote Director in charge of Science and Technology, Pepe L. Epew, the skunk Director in charge of Administration, Bartholomew "Buggs" Lamorphe, the bunny in charge of Intelligence, and, finally, standing at the head ready to start the meeting, Arthur Foxworth, Director of Operations.

"Jack!" the fox called out, surprised. "You didn't have to be here, you know."

Jack took an empty spot at the table. "And miss seeing all of you?" he said mirthfully. "Wouldn't hear of it, Arthur." The tod smiled and nodded graciously, charming little prig that he was.

"OK, then," he began. "Might as well get to the point, then I'll answer your questions." He looked around the table to be sure he had everyone's attention.

"Effective immediately, I am resigning as ZIA Operations Director," he told them. The room exploded with questions from everyone. Except Jack.

He sat there, quietly, trying to figure out Arthur's game, feeling sure time was running out.

* * *

 _11:30 AM_

Delgato knocked on Chief Bogo's open door. The Cape buffalo raised his eyes from the budget reports he was reading, grateful for any break in one of the more tedious tasks he had as Chief.

The lion held up a blue lab folder. "We got a match, Chief," he said with a big "gotcha" in his tone.

"Spit it out, Delgato," the Chief said. "Don't just stand there grinning like you swallowed a sheep."

"Small caliber weapon," the lion said. "Typically issued for close-range, self-defense."

"Issued?" the Chief asked. The detective nodded.

" _Commonwealth Federal_ issued, as a matter of fact," he said.

"Can it be that easy?" wondered the Chief. Delgato smiled wide, opening the report to the last page and holding it up for the buffalo to see the results:

 _CLASSIFIED - EYES ONLY - LEVEL 8_

Bogo whistled. He'd never seen one of those before, following the pattern of firsts he'd been experiencing the last few days. Level 8 was above the Mayor, even the Intelligence Council; it required unanimous consent by the entire Commonwealth Council to unlock it.

That could take days, if not weeks.

* * *

 _11:45 AM_

Lady Palila sat knitting by the window, keeping her paws busy as a means to remain calm. Soon the worst would be over. At least, then she wouldn't have to abide the stress of waiting for the sword to fall. If only her foolish betrothed had left her at home, then she might have had a chance to find another suitor! No. Instead, that foolish old bear had openly challenged Lord Belyiklyk, of all the mammals in the world, leaving her alone like a discarded piece of trash.

She had seen the recordings from the security cameras and heard the testimony of the Leopard Corps guards on duty. At least for the foolish bear it had been a quick, honorable death. For her, it would be a lifetime of slavery followed by a hollow death, never even having seen the cubs growing in her womb.

She had been a fool for ever considering Lord Maedved's proposal. She should have let his line die out; it was his fault for not taking care of his other wives and cubs, letting them tour the Wildlands unprotected like that, as if it were a simple camping trip in their own backyard.

If only she had delayed the extra week for his Alpha to die in the hospital, then she could have accepted a First Wife contract and avoided the consequences of that foolish male's stupidity. She had figured out who her suitor was but had felt sorry for him—and only learned his reason for finding such a young wife after the contract had been made.

Stupid.

Well, in just one more hour the worst would be over.

A knock on the door startled her out of her dismal thoughts. She looked anxiously at the clock. Yes, she was resigned to her fate, but that didn't mean she wanted to succumb to it any quicker. The snow leopardess in charge of the Commons, Ketryn Snowclaw, bowed to her and came in, closing the door behind her. She seemed apprehensive, though over what, Palila couldn't imagine; she wasn't the one heading into slavery.

"Lady Palila," the leopardess said formally, handing her a rolled piece of paper with both paws. "An request for marriage has been fortuitously presented. Do you wish to consider it?"

Palila frowned. "Is it honorable?" The leopardess didn't answer right away.

"Yes, my Lady," she said. "The candidate is a High Lord, able to support you, from an honorable House, and has affirmed, upon his honor, that he can breed you. The contract is not for a Frist Wife, though."

Palila took the document and unrolled it. There was no specific information that could be easily used to identify whom it may be, but there were less than a handful of polar bears at the embassy. She couldn't imagine who it could be from just the 'brag sheet' attached to the contract, but she was impressed by what she read.

"Has this information been verified?" she asked, holding up the contract. The snow leopardess nodded.

"It is all accurate—though far from complete," she said. Palila's eyebrows went up at that.

"What would you do?" Palila posed.

"My Lady," Ketryn said, visibly flustered. "Please do not ask me that. I could not tell you, even if I had an opinion."

Palila looked at the clock. Less than an hour now. That idiot Maedved! "I have nothing to lose but my trip to the slave block," she said, placing her scent on the contract. "This way I may even get the chance to raise my cubs." The leopardess looked at her with respect and compassion, then opened the door for the guards to come in and hang cameras on every corner of the room.

"Do you wish the blindfold?" the leopardess asked, holding out a silken band. Palila patted her belly.

"It does not matter," she said. "It can give me no protection under the circumstances. And I cannot refuse him, whether he be a mangy grandfather or a handsome prince. I might as well see what I am getting into this time."

"As my Lady wishes," Ketryn said. "Your suitor will be chemically blinded for the minimum three hours in that case. Need I remind you, you do not have that much time?"

Palila shook her head. Either she would be this bear's legally betrothed before the next hour, or she would be dragged to the slave pens regardless of what she might be doing at the time. She hoped whomever it was didn't require the preparation Maedved had.

"So be it," the leopardess said, bowing formally. "The cameras will be recording, but not monitored. These recordings will be sealed with your contract in the vault should any legalities arise that require a review. Sound will be monitored at all times. No sounds but those nature has granted by instinct shall be allowed. That is, no words, music or any sort of schooled communication may take place until the contract has been consummated. At the first sign of communication, the contract shall be deemed ready for confirmation, and the examiners shall enter to verify this. Should the examiners determine a null result, the party at fault shall be charged with failure to honorably close the contract, and appropriate action shall be taken, even to the extent of death, if it is determined fraud has taken place. You will have the right to appeal without prejudice in case of dispute, with your honor and status unblemished should you win. Do you understand all I have said?" Palila nodded.

"Yes," she also said, since verbal acknowledgement was required. For her, however, there would be no appeal; she was out of time, damn that foolish bear!

"Very well," said the leopardess with another bow, then leaving. "You have five minutes to prepare, then your suitor shall enter. May this contract fulfill all your dreams, my Lady." Ketryn's voice sounded a little strained at the end.

Palila undressed, neatly folding her things and placing them in the closet—she wouldn't need them anymore if anything went wrong—then brushed her fur until the door opened once more, allowing the suitor to come in. The silver brush dropped from her paws with a loud clang.

Crawling, with his belly on the floor and head down in submission, Octavio Belyiklyk entered the room. The guards locked the door behind him.

Pure rage came over Palila. She leaped over in two great strides, slapping the wolf across the room with her huge paw to land hard enough against the wall to break the plaster. Octavio remained silent, picking himself up and resuming his submissive advance on the bear. A primal roar left her throat as she leapt over to send Octavio flying through the air once more, this time landing against the door and cracking it. Again, if a little slower, he crawled towards Palila.

Four more times Octavio went sailing across the room. Palila was exhausted by then, panting hard while the wolf, bleeding in several places, resumed his passive advance. She looked at the clock: Twenty minutes.

She sat heavily on the floor, all fight gone from her. This final insult was just too much for her to endure; she lay down, curled up and crying, just waiting for her time to be up.

A gentle nudge from a soft, slightly cold nose announced Octavio's arrival. A low whine came from the wolf nuzzling her ears, almost annoying if it weren't for the sympathy it conveyed. What Palila knew about Octavio did not add up to what was happening; the wolf was not known for his empathy, certainly not sympathy, and most definitely not for fraternizing across unrelated species. And she had heard rumors he actually slept on a polar bear rug: Fifteen minutes.

He wasn't aggressive, but he was persistent. She was surprised at his gentleness, suddenly laughing softly as he lay his ears against her belly, listening to her cubs' heartbeats. At the sound of her laughter, his nose prodded her to roll onto her stomach, and she found herself complying with that gentle request, kneeling on all fours to keep her weight off the cubs. His muzzle slipped under her tail, his tongue licking and probing everywhere with shameless abandon.

Palila caught her breath, responding to his attentions, her body suddenly letting go of the accumulated stress of the past days in a mind-numbing climax. Octavio was thorough with her, keeping up his efforts until her trembling subsided. Then he mounted her.

Well, he tried. Palila was petite for a polar bear, but still almost three times the wolf's size. She was simply too big, and he couldn't reach. She saw he was very well endowed—for a wolf, that is—and more than ready for her, so she rolled onto her back, gently reaching with her paws around his head to guide him onto her stomach. He slipped easily into her then, and she wrapped her massive legs around him to keep him in place while his hips frantically thrust against hers.

Palila knew his passion was real. His knot swelled—she almost laughed: At last, she could feel him inside her—and his hips froze against hers. She looked down at him, rubbing her neck suggestively against his muzzle. With a visceral growl, he clamped his jaws around her offered neck, consummating their contract with less than a minute to spare. Palila trembled again, wondering how was it she could find any pleasure in the jaws that had ripped the throat out of the stupid sire of her cubs. Hopefully, his stupidity wasn't hereditary.

"She is mine!" Octavio howled at the top of his voice. Palila felt a shiver run up her spine at the defiantly possessive tone of his voice; he truly _had_ taken possession of her.

And she liked it.

The examiners came in, male and female, of course, to collect samples from the privates of both parties under the scrutiny of the video cameras. The samples would be stored against the eventuality someone might dispute it had actually been Octavio and Palila in the room consummating the contract; it was not unknown for fraud to take place, especially with the nobility, and it was very aggressively prosecuted.

Ketryn came in, blindfolded this time, carrying the Bridal Contract for Palila. Octavio lay again on her stomach, listening to the heartbeats inside with a toothy smile on his face. She found it adorable and shifted herself so their privates could touch while he recovered from their coupling; she had heard this time was important for canines. She put her paws around him, careful not to bruise him anymore.

"Why are you doing this, my lord," she asked softly. "I cannot give you pups of your own, nor do I have any property."

"We need you," he said enigmatically. "Are you pretty?"

She laughed. "I'm fat as a bear, my lord," she said. "I'll understand if you don't want to spend that many nights with me."

Octavio laughed. "Nonsense," he said. "I have not had such a pleasurable workout ever before. But we will need to pad the walls, for certain. Oh, and you smell wonderful; reminds me of the ocean shores by Aurora."

She giggled. "You are not what I expected, my lord," she whispered.

"You can blame Lady Chia for that," he said. "We're in love. It does strange things to mammals, you'll find. She thinks it might be contagious; if it is, you will be amazed at how much it changes you."

Palila laughed. "You're in love with Lady Chia yet lying here with me?" she mused. "That would seem a little strange, my lord."

"This was _her_ idea," he said. "I was just going to let you go to the slave block, if only to spite Maedved one last time. He really had a knack for irritating me."

"I completely understand, my lord," she said. "I chose unwisely with him; he was not the best of bears, but my family insisted, and no other bear showed any interest in me."

"So, you are not pretty, then," Octavio wondered aloud.

"Bears have told me I am," she said, unhappily. "I am just... too small for any of them to find interesting."

"Then, it seems, you chose wisely with Maedved after all," Octavio said. "His foolishness has made you mine. And, if you were any larger, I would likely be dead."

"I have one question, my lord," she said. "What happens when we cannot produce offspring?"

"I will let you speak to Lady Chia about that," he said. "We would like to have you stay with us, Palila."

"Is that wise? Maedved's mark is still on me," she objected. Octavio chuckled.

"I was quite thorough with you," he told her. "His mark is but a bad memory now. You would honor me by accepting mine, Palila."

"Are you truly going through with this, my lord?" She asked, somewhat doubtful and not a little fearful. "What will the Pack do? Have you considered that? Will you bite the hand that feeds you?"

Octavio growled. "My oaths of loyalty are to the Empire and to my wives, Palila," he assured her. "If anyone finds dishonor in my deeds, they are free to challenge me over them."

Palila's heart fluttered over his use of the word 'wives', leaving her somewhat disturbed. How could this... wolf... affect her so? She thought about him, sailing across the room again and again: It was his conviction. Whatever it took, he would do what he thought was right, regardless of the consequences. So different from that fool, Maedved.

The challenge would be to convince him of what was right. She nudged him playfully off her belly, then turned on all fours and raised her tail.

"I will proudly carry your mark, my lord," she told him. Octavio had to stand in order to reach, making Palila giggle. It took him a while to finish. When he was done, he ran his paws appreciatively over her hindquarters.

"I look forward to actually seeing you, Palila," he said. "Now, could you be so kind as to help me dress? I have much to do before sunset."

* * *

 _12:03 PM_

Judy looked down at Nick. "So, can you forgive me?" she asked, rubbing his chest.

He ran his paws over her hips. "You said you were going to..."

"Tonight," she reminded him, wiggling. "Don't I get anything for this?" Nick's eyes rolled back into his head.

"Would you take a kidney?" he murmured. "I think I have an extra one, somewhere."

"How about we go get some lunch?" she asked, stomach growling. "You have to be hungry, too."

"Rabbit sounds good," he said, stroking her tail.

"Horny fox."

"Tasty bunny."

"Mom's making blueberry pies," Judy told him. Nick closed his eyes.

"Oh, you fight dirty for a cop."

"I like to win," she said, trying unsuccessfully to get up.

"I still have you for a few minutes," he reminded her. She kissed him.

"You have me forever, Slick," she whispered, wiggling some more.

"OK," he yielded. "You win: I forgive you."

"You know you love me," she said, laying her head on his chest.

"Do I?" He wondered. "Yes. Yes, I do—I do smell that! Fresh blueberry pie!"

"Too bad you're stuck with me for a few more minutes," Judy said.

"Maybe I can shake it off," he theorized.

"You're not breaking my fox," she told him.

"How about yell for room service?"

"You locked the door."

"I got it!" he said. "Think about something unexciting!"

"Mom's pregnant," Judy told him. Nick considered that.

"Well, she is kinda hot, Fluff," he said. Judy covered her ears.

"Ugh! Not you, too!"

"Guess your dad's still got it," Nick said.

"Not listening!"

"Must be all that farm work. Clean, country living, and such. Keeps 'em spry... Ooops. Guess time's up."

"Free, at last!" Judy said, rolling off her mate. They cleaned themselves up and got dressed, then headed to the kitchen, where Bonnie and Stu were sitting at the head table. Nick walked over to Bonnie, squinting through his paws.

"Mom! You're glowing way too much for that tummy to be from blueberry pies!" Bonnie blushed.

"You're such a nice boy, Nicholas," she said. Nick gave her a hug and kissed her head. Then he gave Stu a high-five.

"Nice shootin' Mr. H!" he said. Stu smiled bashfully. There was, of course, a slight strain in the air, and no one in the burrow would ever make some remark like 'when are you two having kits' anymore after that one time when Judy had lost it and rushed out in tears.

Skye sat in the kits' section, surrounded by The Kerfuffle. Woe the mammal who tried to lead her away! Nick smiled at how happy she was, listening to the stories pouring out of a hundred bunnies at once. The kits weren't fighting each other for attention, either, as the vixen seemed to listen to each one long enough to make them feel special. She had a gift he had never noticed, granted, though, he had never seen her deal with kits before. Fru-Fru's kits were family—and only two—so he wouldn't compare the two situations.

After lunch, it was time for pie. Gideon Grey's might be a little tastier, but home-made pies gave them _volume_ , always a good equalizer. Nick and, surprisingly, Skye turned out to be the biggest eaters, muzzles purple from their enthusiasm. The Kerfuffle watched entranced as the vixen devoured an entire pie one slice at a time, wondering if a new pie-eating champion had arrived to challenge the tod. Cassy was confident in her opinion.

"She's taller than Uncle Nick, and Aunt Judy won't make _her_ stop," she told the others.

Judy waved Skye over to discuss their next step. The vixen managed to step away from The Kerfuffle by sending them to the main hall to wait for her quietly with the promise of another story. The kits drifted out of the kitchen towards the hall, calm as could be, to the quiet amusement of the adults.

"What's your plan?" Judy asked Skye.

"I need to contact Reggie Todwell," the vixen said. "He's the IT manager at the S&T division."

"Can you trust him?" Nick asked. Skye smiled.

"Yes, Nicky. I trust him; he really is a nice fox, though a little too quirky for me."

"You mean, a geek," Nick said. Skye laughed.

"Not too much," she said. "He is an amateur photographer that gets a bit obsessive about his hobby."

"How do we contact him?" asked Judy.

"That is a little tricky," Skye said. "He doesn't answer calls from mammals he doesn't know, and my phone is gone. I will need to go meet him, somehow."

"You're wanted, dead or alive," Nick said. "Remember?"

"How about we send someone else?" Judy suggested. "Does he like blueberries?"

* * *

 _12:45 PM_

Arthur had answered everyone's questions, revealing the events that took place at his house the previous night. The others had known for a long time about Arthur's philandering, but were chauvinistically shocked at his wife's behavior, especially that it had gone so far as to compromise Arthur. Jack thought they were more shocked at the sudden discovery of it. He, himself, though, thought it was all a good act by the fox: There was _no way_ Arthur Foxworth didn't know about it; he was simply too good.

Which left the question: Why look like an incompetent fool, forced to resign? He thought about it and realized none of the others had ever worked with the fox outside of an administrative role. They had never seen Arthur solve a puzzle from a single piece of stale information while fending off a hostile assault team. Jack had; he had been there with him.

"Well, Jack," Arthur said, coming up to him. "Your call led me to look where I never expected to find trouble. And made me realize that I don't really have what it takes to run a spy agency, anymore. But, don't feel too bad, Jack. My heart really hasn't been in this, anyway; I've been wanting to get back into the trading game for a while, now. Should be a good change of pace, and mammals' lives won't be on the line."

"I think you are making a mistake," Jack said, shaking his paw. "There's no one I'd trust more than you to run Ops."

"Maybe you should take over," Arthur said.

"Not with Skye on the loose," Jack said. "I probably will not last the month before I'm asked to leave."

"You can always come work with me, Jack," the tod offered. "You'd make a good trader. Be nice to work with you again, too, even if it is a bit less exciting than we're used to."

"I might take you up on that offer," Jack laughed. "So, what now?"

"I'm staying the night in Bunnyburrow," Arthur told him. "There's a certain she-wolf in the Field Office I would like to... say goodbye to, before I go to HQ tomorrow for the exit interview and paperwork. You?"

"Well... I thought I would give my condolences to the Hopps family while I'm here. I feel responsible for the deaths of the WildeHopps; they died on my watch."

"Jack," Arthur said, sympathetically, "you know that's not the case."

"I do, Arthur," Jack acknowledged. "But it still feels that way. It would make me feel better to let the family know how much I admired them. And that I won't stop until I get the ones responsible."

"You're not a cop, Jack."

"You're right, Arthur," Jack told him. "There won't be any arrests or trials when I find them."

"That's the Jack I know," Arthur laughed. He looked at his watch. "I better get going; have to get ready for a lady. Maybe we could have lunch tomorrow, back in Zootopia?" He went to grab a roller travel case standing by the door. "Feels strange, being single again," he said, then left, whistling 'Try Everything.'

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Lots of things happening, including fluff. I cut it short as it was getting looong.**

 **As always, comments are welcome.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	25. Dancing with Wolves

**Author's Note:**

 **Here's the next installment.**

 **Things are moving along.** **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _12:54 PM_

Skye sat on the toilet, one of the few sized for mammals larger than bunnies in the Hopps burrow. They had decided to send Judy's sister, Elena, to contact Reggie. Elena was a flirt and, in Skye's opinion, buxom enough to pry Reggie's attention away from his computer while delivering a blueberry gift basket. She would give him a code phrase identifying herself as Skye's contact, then lead the fox back to the farm. Elena had been very enthusiastic about helping to avoid kit-sitting duties for the afternoon and had left a few minutes ago.

Finished with the toilet, Skye cleaned herself up, her paw coming back covered in blood. She stood up in alarm, dizzy and barely catching hold of the wall to keep herself from falling over.

Waiting outside the bathroom, Judy heard Skye's cry for help and rushed to the stall, finding the vixen reeling with paws against the walls, her legs covered in blood. The doe went to hit the panic button near the bathroom entrance, a feature in every public area of the burrow, then helped Skye out of the stall.

The vixen was calm, but in shock from sudden blood loss, her lips and ears very pale. Judy couldn't find any blood flowing from anywhere, which confused her as it seemed unlikely the source of that much bleeding would just stop; it went against her first-aid training that said to stem the flow of blood as a priority. She took the vixen to the nearest shower booth and turned on the spray, cleaning her off with warm water. Thankfully, no more blood appeared, but that didn't make Judy feel any more comfortable.

Bonnie soon waddled in with Dalia and Jemina behind her, two of Judy's older sisters. Noticing blood all over the bathroom, they quickly went over to Skye, sitting naked in the fur dryer.

"Are you OK, sweetie?" Bonnie asked the vixen.

"I-I don't know," Skye said, trembling, tears running from her eyes. "It just... I don't understand..."

Bonnie gave her a big hug. "Well," she said, "I don't either, dear, but if it were a miscarriage, you'd still be bleeding." Skye gave a sob of relief at that reassurance.

"We can't take her to any of the main hospitals, Mom," Judy reminded Bonnie.

"How about Hometown Female Health?" Jemina asked. "It's where I go; they don't have an emergency room, but they're an independent chain, very good, and handle more than just bunnies."

Skye nodded. "I know them: They're my doctors, too," she said. "I go to the Savannah clinic in Downtown Zootopia. They should be able to access to my medical records."

"I'll take her, Mom," Judy said.

"You're supposed to be dead," Skye cautioned.

"Exactly," Judy told her, winking. "This is Bunnyburrow, Skye. There are so many bunnies here, it's easy to spot look-alikes, and no one expects to see Judy WildeHopps walking around alive. It's not like we'll be walking into ZIA headquarters with multiple security checkpoints like Elena will." She cocked her paws on her hips. "Just call me, Lavern," she said in a heavy Bunnyburrow accent. "It's my middle name, but it's also a common first name for a bunny. I'll even wear a hat, but I'm not leaving you unprotected."

"Take Jemina with you," Bonnie said. "She knows the way." Jemina and Judy nodded. The matriarch gave Skye another hug. "Don't go fretting any, sweetheart. Everything's going to be fine. Just relax and let my girls take care of you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hopps," Skye said.

"You just call me, Mom," Bonnie said. "Aunt Skye is part of the family, now." The vixen sniffled, returning the doe's hug.

* * *

 _1:01 PM_

In the Executive parking lot, Arthur put the device into the trunk of his rental car. He took a moment to admire Tonya's handywork inside the travel case. The device had passed right through the ZIA scanners with no one the wiser. A visual inspection might have drawn some comments, though nothing Arthur hadn't been prepared to answer. One thing was certain: He was not letting the device out of his sight.

Getting into the driver's seat, something started to bother him—or, more like, was dawning on him. He started the car, heading east down the highway towards the Labtierre border. It was a long drive, at least six hours if he didn't want to take the chance at getting pulled over, which really wouldn't be a problem other than leaving a trail: His ZIA Director's ID was valid until after the exit interview, tomorrow.

 _"Can you imagine how surprised I was," Octavio said, sitting on the sofa, "when Miss Ryzhaya told me Arthur Foxworth was sharing her bed?"_

 _"Arthur, darling," Chia giggled, "who do you think sent Tonya to find you?"_

Indeed.

Why had _Lady Chia_ sent Tonya to find him? Why hadn't Octavio?

 _'Because Octavio didn't know you have signature authority over the Institute for Special Projects,'_ he thought. Almost nobody did; just five mammals.

 _Oops_.

Arthur laughed. Make that, six mammals. The wildest, most passionate night he had ever spent with Candace had been when he had bragged about his new 'perk' of being able to commission his own research projects at the Institute. It had been the only surefire way he knew to get Candace to lift her tail for him: Let her know something about his job: How much it paid, where his office was, how many agents reported to him, general gossip, his schedule. Anything new, and he got to spend a warm night with her without it being a mechanical 'duty' night.

He had never talked about items specifically prohibited by the Agency's regulations, or that could compromise a case. But Arthur knew quite well the value of the information he had shared, how it could be used to lead a mammal to a situation like he currently found himself in. It was one reason for the limits imposed on the spouses of senior members: senior members needed to be able to talk to their spouses if they were to keep trust in their marriage. Their mates just needed to keep their mouths shut about what was said, as they should for most intimate family business.

Looking back, he knew when Candace had been turned: When he had served as Station Chief in Aurora, under the cover of Commercial Attaché. Lady Chia. Wow. She had barely been in High School! She must have been the one who sent her precocious younger classmate, Kasani, to him after saying he needed someone to 'keep him warm during the frosty winter nights' while Candace went out 'enjoying the nightlife'.

Kasani had repeatedly tried to get him to mate with her, sometimes subtly, sometimes like a sledge hammer. He was glad that he had resisted, knowing it could have really ruined her future. They had spent many nights talking, playing games, and keeping warm in more chaste ways, like close cousins. The last time she saw him, the young vixen had told him she would wait for him to claim her, tearfully prophesying how, one day, he would be her first.

 _'Prophecy, my tail!'_ Arthur scolded himself. _'I've been the mark of a long-con started by a couple of teenagers!'_ He'd always wondered how the schoolkits had managed to get around without any of the official chaperones. How in Mammaldom had Chia managed to compromise _them_?

Somehow, Chia had compromised Candace, then tried to compromise him with Kasani as well. Had they mated, Baratean law could have been quite severe on him, even sending him to the slave pens, and Zootopia would not have lifted a finger on his behalf given Kasani had been below the Commonwealth's age of consent. Baratean law gave no minimum age as long as there was consent; it just needed a valid contract to be in place, which also had to be approved by the family head if a minor was involved. Basically, the only crime was Sex Without a Contract, as the embassy staff would joke. But it was a serious crime that would have easily compromised him.

Arthur grunted. Sometimes, good deeds _did_ go unpunished, after all.

 _"I shall make you a High Lord, Arthur. It is a good thing to bring new blood into the Empire, and I have wanted to bring yours in for a long time."_

What an Empress Chia would make!

* * *

 _1:25 PM_

Trina's eyesight was gradually returning; the doe could now make out shadows while sitting in the sunlight in the enclosed balcony. Her phone rang, Zeke's ringtone, and she felt around to pick it up.

"Hello, Zeke," she said, smiling.

 _"Glad to hear you talking, Trina,"_ he said. _"You were in bad shape on the train, last night."_

"You were there?" she asked, surprised.

 _"Boss called us in,"_ Zeke told her. _"We hopped aboard at Rivercross Station. Barely made it, too, having to pick up supplies, and all."_

"Supplies?"

 _"We **are** the cleanup crew, you know,"_ he laughed.

"Cleanup?"

 _"You sure you're OK?"_ Zeke asked.

"Am I OK?"

 _"Yeah. You keep repeating what I say."_

"Repea—Oh, sorry," Trina said. "I do not recall much about last night past being a fool, I'm afraid."

 _"You're lucky the boss found you,"_ Zeke said. _"That bucko was out for your blood."_

"What?"

 _"Bunny, you ran into the Grey Heart Brigade,"_ he told her sternly.

"In Zootopia?"

 _"They're everywhere, Trina,"_ Zeke warned. _"That's why we don't like you going around alone."_

"He... he didn't tell me that," Trina said. "He just said some rabbit tried to date-rape me."

 _"He almost did,"_ Zeke agreed. _"Then he was going to kill you."_

"But... how... he told me he... _talked_ to the rabbit... that he changed his life..."

Zeke laughed. _"That, he did,"_ he chuckled.

"...And then, he... had dinner with him..." Trina heard Zeke's phone hit the ground while he laughed uncontrollably. After a few moments, he picked it up.

 _"Sorry about that, Trina,"_ he said, laughter in his voice. _"The boss sure has a way with words sometimes."_

"Yes, he does," she agreed. "But I don't see what is so amusing."

 _"I think it's best if he explained,"_ Zeke said, changing subjects. _"So, how long have you two been...?"_

Trina felt her ears heating up. "I don't know what you are talking about," she stammered.

 _"Well,"_ Zeke ventured, _"You had what amounts to a fatal dose of Metrapozine in rabbits. If you weren't lovers before, you most certainly are now, since you're alive, talking to me."_

"Metrapozine?" she asked, unfamiliar with the drug.

 _"It's a hormonal stimulant that also acts as a mood inhibitor,"_ he told her. _"Mostly used for treating low-fertility couples."_

"And how would you know that?" she asked.

 _"Gret told me; he's the pharmacologist, remember? I wrote this down—never know when it can come in useful—it's very nasty,"_ he said. _"The drug eases a female's inhibitions while also increasing ovulation efficiency. In most species who do not have regular fertile cycles, it will trigger spontaneous ovulation with accompanying arousal. In bunnies, because of their faster metabolism, high doses also sends the hypothalamus into overdrive, triggering acute hyper-anxiety linked to the mating behavior. Side effects can include nausea, blindness, aggressor/dependent sexual behavior, anosmia—that means you can't smell anything—short-term hearing loss, headaches, loss of motor skills, and, adding insult to injury, constipation."_

"Hyper-anxiety?" Trina asked.

 _"Yeah. Severe panic attacks strong enough to cause arrythmia and blood pressure spikes that can burst your heart or the blood vessels in your brain. They get triggered by your need to mate. As I said,"_ he told the bunny, _"real nasty stuff, and you were chocked full of it; likely slipped into a drink—it dissolves readily in alcohol."_

"You're saying I had to mate or _die_?" she asked, incredulously.

 _"Pretty much,"_ he concluded. _"Boss said that creep was trying to record a video of you, so I expect it was more like you would go after the nearest male to have your way—and you did—or you would be dead. So, if you two weren't lovers before, you most certainly are now. And I say: Good for both of you; you've been walking on eggshells around each other for months."_

"Have I been that obvious?" she asked, disappointed with herself.

 _"That you were interested in the boss? Not at all,"_ Zeke said, sincerely. _"Just that something wasn't right between you two. I'm glad it wasn't something like you couldn't stand him; that could've been real awkward."_

"Not much chance of that, Zeke," Trina giggled. "I find him quite wonderful for a mammal his age."

 _"Just never go to a museum with him,"_ Zeke joked. _"He can't stop complaining about how they got the displays wrong."_

"I've heard him arguing with the History Channel, Zeke," Trina said. "He can be very eloquent." She heard Gret's voice saying something in the background.

 _"He might get a chance to expand his vocabulary,"_ Zeke told her. _"Gret tells me Judy, Skye and another doe just got into an SUV and are heading into town. Skye definitely looks unwell, if not injured. No sign of the tod. No kits playing outside, either, which seems curious. Also, tell the boss there's a ZIA sniper team watching the hill; they must be friendlies, since they had the vixen in their sights and didn't take her out."_

"I'll let him know, Zeke," she said. "Thanks for the talk."

 _"Catch you later, Trina,"_ Zeke said. _"Try not to beat yourself up. And get some rest."_

The doe put the phone down and slowly found her way back to the bed, where Kataiahs still slept. She crawled in next to the lynx, rubbing his chest, then giggled as he began to purr.

"Is it already Wednesday?" he asked sleepily.

"I'm afraid it is still Friday, sir," she told him, then relayed Zeke's message. Kataiahs sighed.

"If Skye is injured, there's only one place for them to take her," he said. "I suppose it's time to get up, now. How are you doing, my dear? Your heartbeat sounds normal, with no irregularities. Can you see, yet?"

"Only shadows," she told him. "But it is much better than nothing, sir. Were you going to tell me the Grey Heart Brigade accosted me?"

"At some point," he said, holding her paw. "You had enough stress, as it were. It was a chance encounter, my dear. He was looking for a simple distraction, but your choice of alcohol and that lovely accent of yours made him suspicious. Once your guard was down, he slipped you the drug and then confirmed his suspicions by your reactions to carefully selected food and questions. That is when he overdosed you and you truly lost control."

"Zeke said I might have been... aggressive," she said shyly. He nuzzled her.

"You most certainly were a bunny with a one-track mind," he told her. "Thankfully, I managed to rise to the occasion, though you did wear me out at the end. When you finally woke up, I thought you were still under the influence and I was seriously afraid I might lose you."

"Well, sir, you did not." She gave him a hug. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

"My pleasure," he said, rubbing her hindquarters and tail suggestively.

"Now, sir?" she said, surprised.

"The spirit is willing," he said, nuzzling her, "but the body needs a few more hours, I'm afraid. However, you didn't pounce on me, so it means the drug is finally out of your system, thanks to that fast metabolism of yours, and I can go deal with other matters."

"What happened to the buck, sir?" she asked.

"I thought I explained all that," he said, uncomfortably.

"Zeke found it very amusing when I told him you two had dinner."

"I said I had dinner _in his room_ , my dear, not with him."

"You're avoiding the subject, sir."

"Yes, I am," he said. "You have had enough to worry about for one day."

"Is he going to be a problem later on, sir?"

"Nothing that won't pass in a day or two," he told her, giving her a kiss while getting out of the bed.

* * *

 _2:05 PM_

Lady Windbright sat near the pool in the Commons, sunning herself under the panoramic skylight. She was bored. The other females avoided her, as usual, not having much in common with the snow leopardess. Some of the other felines would, on occasion, come to talk and gossip, but Windbright didn't have the interests or stories the others craved, so those sessions would generally fizz out after a few minutes. She would gossip about males at length, though, having a hedonistic streak she satisfied as often as she could, and that was enough to keep her 'in the loop' with the other females.

Protocol for snow leopards traditionally differed from other mammals, since a snow leopard had no property to lose, nor were interested in politics. Snow leopards lived to serve the Empire. They were the law keepers, incorruptible by virtue of lacking political ambition and an unwillingness to gather personal wealth. They were, in turn, fully supported by the Empire, and females had a degree of freedom envied by other species. Windbright needed no chaperone, was free to associate with whom she willed, and even had her choice of quarters in the Embassy. She just preferred not to be alone, although that would change soon enough, she knew.

Only one thing was expected from a snow leopardess, something Windbright could not do: Name the father of her kits. Her younger sister, Ketryn, had taken over her duties as Commons Keeper because of this, and the male snow leopards would no longer give Windbright the time of day, hypocritical prigs that they were. Any time now, she expected word from the Clan stripping her of her title and recalling her to Aurora for discipline—or worse—for humiliating House Snowclaw.

All a snow leopard had was their honor, which Windbright believed in, and was the reason she had not simply lied and named one of the most likely bedpartners. She also truly regretted that two of the potential fathers already had mates in Aurora, though in truth, she had not found out until after they had coupled. She probably should have filed charges against them; as it were, she had told Ketryn about it, and the two had been sent back home with black marks on their records—as compared to in chains, facing criminal charges.

Murmurs amongst the other females made her look towards the main entrance. Her sister had entered, carrying a rolled-up document, heading straight for her with a grim cast to her face. This was it, and the others knew it as well: Time to go home in chains.

Ketryn kneeled before her, holding out the document with both paws.

"Lady Windbright," her sister said formally. "A request for marriage has been received. Do you wish to consider it?"

Windbright laughed amidst the sudden silence in the Commons. "Are you serious?" she chuckled. "Have the new recruits arrived already?"

"My Lady," Ketryn said, stiffly. "The candidate is a High Lord, able to support you, from an honorable House, and has affirmed, upon his honor, that he can breed you."

Intrigued, Windbright took the document and unrolled it, her eyebrows arching up. The 'brag sheet' attached to the contract was impressive. Too impressive, so it was obviously from a much older male. Someone new to the Embassy, then, looking for a younger wife to keep him warm.

"Is he healthy, Ketryn? Will I get more than a years' use out of him?" she asked, holding up the contract.

"I believe he is in extraordinary health," Ketryn said. "I can't vouch for how long he will live, or if he will see to your needs past today."

"Fair enough," Windbright said, scenting the contract, making Ketryn frown.

"Please, Windbright, do you wish the blindfold?" her sister pleaded, holding up the silken strap.

"You know I cannot," she said, tenderly. "I know what everyone says about me, Ketryn, that I'm a whore. But I really do have honor, you know."

"As my Lady wishes," Ketryn said with teary eyes. "Your suitor will be chemically blinded. Do you require longer than the minimum three hours?"

"Not if he is a breathing male," Windbright laughed. Ketryn smiled at that.

"So be it," her sister said, bowing formally. "Cameras will be set and recording, but not monitored. These recordings will be sealed with your contract in the vault should any legalities arise that require a review. Sound will be monitored at all times. No sounds but those nature has granted by instinct shall be allowed. That is, no words, music or any sort of schooled communication may take place until the contract has been consummated. At the first sign of communication, the contract shall be deemed ready for confirmation, and the examiners shall enter to verify this. Should the examiners determine a null result, the party at fault shall be charged with failure to honorably close the contract, and appropriate action shall be taken, even to the extent of death, if it is determined fraud has taken place. You will have the right to appeal without prejudice in case of dispute, with your honor and status unblemished should you win. Do you understand all I have said?"

"Yes," Windbright said, impatiently. "After as many times as I've had to say it, I'd better."

"Very well," Ketryn said with another bow. "You have five minutes to prepare after you reach your quarters, then your suitor shall enter. May this contract fulfill all your dreams, my Lady." Ketryn couldn't hold back her tears anymore.

Windbright caught her in a hug. "Don't worry about me, little sister," she said. "I can't mess _this_ up. How bad could it possibly be?"

"Just be careful, Windbright, please," Ketryn said, leaving. "Something strange is going on."

Windbright laughed, stripping off her clothes on the way to her quarters. That always made the other females uncomfortable. Not the nudity. The battle scars and muscles of a warrior, the graceful, deadly movements of a predator used to fighting for her life.

She entered her quarters, making sure the cameras were placed properly out of habit, then groomed herself until the door opened, letting her suitor in. Immediately, she knew something was wrong; she smelled a wolf.

Was this some kind of sick joke? she thought, spinning around growling at the figure laying prostate just inside the door.

Octavio Belyiklyk.

She paused, taken aback. He looked even more impressive sprawled face down, naked on the floor. What could be going through the wolf's mind that he would dare approach a snow leopardess like this? Sure, there was nothing illegal about it, but when no kits were produced from the union, severe consequences could result if anyone—more like, when everyone—challenged the contract.

Belyiklyk was a warrior. What was he doing crawling on his belly to an outcast leopardess? He had the reputation as the foremost fighter in the Empire, and Windbright had personally seen his collection of vanquished foes, so she knew his reputation was more than braggadocio.

He was handsome—for a canine—she thought, larger than she was, his body hard and sculpted through the discipline of a warrior. Her thoughts began wandering, imagining how it would feel to have those strong, muscular arms wrapped tightly around her, their tails intertwined while he took her.

Octavio sniffed, noticing the change in her scent, and padded over to her on all fours, fully aroused. His muzzle dipped between her legs, taking in her scent and his tongue flicked for a taste of her. Windbright watched him, completely fascinated at her own submissiveness, leaning into his muzzle for him to have his fill of her. Her paws stroked his ears, encouraging him to move quicker, and she felt herself reach the threshold, but couldn't cross. It was tantalizing, how he did everything right, how badly she wanted this, yet she was held back by a flimsy thread she couldn't fathom in the back of her mind.

Octavio sensed her mood and knew what was missing for the leopardess. His muzzle darted beneath her and nipped hard at the base of her tail. She flinched with a loud hiss, slapping open-clawed at the wolf, who danced away untouched and began circling her like she was his next meal. She growled in frustration, and also anger for her sore tail, pouncing on the wolf who skillfully danced out of reach to begin circling her again, his tongue hanging out in silent laughter. She pounced again, this time flipping mid-air to catch him while he turned, but he still evaded her somehow, tongue lolling out, egging her on.

Windbright was now out for blood. Nobody humiliated her like this! She growled and began stalking the wolf, shifting and lunging at him, just to have him dance away and laugh every time. He _was_ blinded, wasn't he? Octavio kept his eyes closed, regardless, she noticed. She also noticed he was limping slightly and had several fresh cuts along one side of his body, so she changed her tactics to go against his injured side, only to be nipped in the tail again as she sailed by where he had been. She was panting hard now, not from exhaustion, but frustration at the circling wolf. Unwilling to give up, she continued her assaults, her determination eventually winning out as Octavio slipped and fell.

She pounced without hesitation, realizing only at the last minute the wolf was laughing at her. His arms were much stronger than she had expected, catching her and turning her around with her back into his belly, his legs twining with hers to spread them apart and slip himself inside her. His arms held her tightly yet gently, giving Windbright an easy choice to pull away.

The leopardess knew she had no choice, nor did she want one; his strong embrace felt even better than she had imagined. She wrapped her tail around his, completing her fantasy, soon reaching that elusive summit once more, this time to fall over trembling in his arms.

He wasn't through yet, so she tugged his tail playfully with hers. Octavio gasped at that, so she offered her neck to him, then tugged firmly at his tail when his jaws had taken hold of her. He yipped in surprise and Windbright was suddenly filled with his knot, the unexpected sensation startling her and triggering her flight response. Unable to break away, she instinctively lashed out, catching Octavio with a claw to the side of his head.

"My lord!" she called out, seeing the cut start to bleed. He laughed softly and pulled her in tighter against him, finishing at last with a contented growl.

"You're mine, now, you magnificent mammal," he whispered hotly into her ear.

The proud tone of his voice was an intoxicating music to the leopardess. The cut on the wolf's head wasn't deep and stopped bleeding while they nuzzled in the afterglow. Octavio's paws eagerly learned every curve of her body, appreciatively tracing every scar his eyes could not see.

"How did you beat me, my lord?" Windbright panted, stretching with her arms under his neck. "You _are_ blinded, are you not?"

He laughed. "Did I beat you, Windbright?" he whispered in her ear, his paws still wandering everywhere. "Is this not what you wanted?"

She laughed. "Only if this is the first of many sessions, my lord," she said, seriously. "I will not be a token wife."

"My sweet Windbright," he said. "We have no use for tokens."

"Who is 'we', my lord?" she asked, remembering Ketryn's words about something strange going on.

"Lady Chia," he told her. "My Alpha; she thought we'd be a good match, you and me. But you will have to be faithful, Windbright. Can you be?"

"I suppose I deserve that," she said. Octavio silenced her with a kiss.

"No," he said. "You do not. But I must ask, and I will trust your honor as a warrior to respond. What we are doing is too important, Windbright; we cannot afford a scandal. If you truly cannot settle for my attentions alone, I can plead Ketryn for an annulment. Think carefully before you answer."

"What have you done, my lord?" she asked. "Is this why the examiners have not barged in yet?"

"Your sister is very concerned about you," Octavio said. "We have an agreement to insure you are content."

"Since when is Lord Belyiklyk interested in the contentment of others?"

"It is surprising to me as well, if you must know," he confessed. "But, I am. So, my sweet Windbright, will you be a wife to me?"

"Do you really believe I am sweet, my lord?" she purred.

"I know so," he whispered into her ear. "Your taste is still on my tongue."

She felt herself blushing like a schoolkit. "I don't know why you want to wed a disgraced leopardess, my lord," she said. "But I agreed to become yours alone before I saw you, and my word is my bond."

"Then you would wear my mark?"

"My lord!" she said, scandalized. "That is completely..."

"...my choice," Octavio finished for her. "We want you staying with us, Windbright."

"You don't trust me, my lord?"

"We want you safe, Windbright," he whispered in her ear, low enough for the microphones to miss. "We cannot protect you in here."

Windbright looked into his eyes. She had heard many things about Octavio, the bulk of them bad. But he was not known as a liar, and even his enemies called him honorable. Something strange was truly going on.

"I will proudly wear your mark, my lord." Her own reputation was for being impulsive. "You _will_ teach me how I ended up in your arms at the end, will you not?"

"I will gladly teach you to dance, Windbright, once I can see again," he promised, nuzzling her ears. "For now, let's summon the examiners; I still have things I must do."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **In case you might be wondering, all the characters have been responding to events set in motion long ago. Judy and Nick know the least about what is going on.**

 **They are the fly in the ointment.**

 **Someone is bound to do something about them soon.**

 **As always, your comments are welcome.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	26. Close Encounters of the Bunny Kind

**Author's Note:**

 **4000+ views! Thanks, everyone!**

 **This is a long, busy chapter. Lots of details.**

 **And fluff, of course.**

 **Hopefully, some surprises as well.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _2:15 PM_

"I have a gift basket for a Reggie Todwell," came a sweet voice with a heavy Bunnyburrow accent.

"Just leave it on the table, thank you," Reggie said, busily swiping and typing away on his CarrotPro at a small table in the building's front break area.

"Needs a signature," came the reply. "Oh! Is that the new CarrotPro with the 4K display and dual 3D rendering coprocessors?"

"Why, y…e…s," Reggie said, looking up from his screen right down the shirt of a spectacularly figured light-grey bunny doe leaning over the table. He forced his eyes to look up from doe's cleavage, his jaw dropping open at the adorable white face smiling at him. His CarrotPro clanged down on the table.

Elena pushed his mouth closed with her paw. "She didn't tell me you were cute," she said.

"Whewawoo?" Reggie said, blinking. "I mean, who?"

"The one who sent you the basket, silly," Elena said, drawing his gaze to the basket of fresh blueberries on the table, which made his eyes wander past her cleavage again. Reggie swallowed. Hard.

"I-I don't know many mammals in Bunnyburrow," he stammered. "Well, I don't know that many mammals anywhere, really."

"Oh, pooh," Elena said, smiling wide. "A handsome tod like you must have whole pack of females just lining up to lay sprawled naked on your couch nipping their tails." She saw Reggie's pupils go wide with recognition.

She winked. "I'm Elena," she said, looking up at the glass ceiling. Her bosoms strained mightily against her thin, flower-print shirt. "Don't you just love seeing _sky_ in Bunnyburrow?"

"The view is m-most amazing," he said. "I love taking pictures of the sky, but live subjects are my preference." He sighed. "You are very photogenic, you know."

"You really think so?" she asked, batting her eyes at him. "Could I be in some of your pictures?" She swung her hips saucily, bringing her tail into his view. "Even though my tail doesn't reach my lips?"

"I would _love_ to take your picture," Reggie said sincerely, staring at her bushy tail. "Your tail is perfect."

"Well, aren't you just as sweet," Elena said, feeding him a blueberry, "as these delicious little blueberries."

"Ca-can I get your number?" he mumbled, swallowing the berry.

"You could do much better than that, handsome," she said, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "You could come home with me." Reggie whined, his tail wagging uncontrollably. Elena giggled. "If you have the time, that is," she said.

Reggie dug madly through his pockets. Finding his phone, he punched in a speed-dial code. "Yeah," he said into the device. "I'll be working off-site the rest of the day." Then he frantically sent off a text message and stood up, unceremoniously sweeping his things into his backpack. Elena picked up the blueberry basket and took Reggie's paw.

"I'll drive," she said. Reggie nodded enthusiastically.

* * *

 _2:30 PM_

Judy sat next to the hospital-gowned Skye in the doctor's office. It had taken a while to get Skye into the que since there were a lot of patients waiting already. Judy figured the doctors must be top notch. Bunnies made up only half of the patients, which was remarkable all by itself in Bunnyburrow. They had gotten a major break and been called in right away because the chain's founder, Dr. Reylands, was on his monthly inspection visit, and just happened to be Skye's doctor.

Dr. Reylands came in, wearing his surgical mask as he always did.

"Miss Skye!" he greeted pleasantly. "Whatever are you doing in Bunnyburrow? Visiting Jack's family, at last, are we?"

"No, Dr. Reylands," she said, smiling. "I am visiting a friend of mine, Laverne Hopps." She nodded towards Judy.

"One of Stu Hopps' girls?" Dr. Reylands asked, surprised.

"Yes, sir," Judy said in her best Bunnyburrow accent, shaking his paw. "You know Dad?"

"Of course," he said. "We're on the City Council together. I might spend a lot of my time in Zootopia, but my home is actually here, in Bunnyburrow."

Judy wondered about the mask. "Are you sick, Doctor?"

"The mask?" Dr. Reylands said. "No, no. I find it makes females, of all species, more relaxed not having to bare themselves to a fanged predator."

"I never thought about it," Judy admitted. "But I believe you might be right, Doctor. You definitely don't make me nervous."

The doctor nodded politely. "So, Miss Skye," he said to the vixen. "What brings you to my office today?" Skye described the bathroom incident to him, Judy adding her own details.

"Highly unusual," Dr. Reylands said. "Would you mind if I examined you?"

"That's why I'm here," the vixen said, making her way to the examination table.

"What happened to your knee?" Dr. Reylands asked, noticing her limp.

"Dislocated it," she told him. "I'm used to it."

"We'll take care of that, too," he said, beginning his examination.

Judy spent the time looking around the office, noticing several diplomas, certificates, and awards. Dr. Reylands certainly seemed to be a first-class physician. Behind his desk, a bookshelf held several medical textbooks, including the famous Syndaler's Mammalian Anatomy, featured in so many medical dramas. Other books were more specific to Dr. Reylands' specialty, such as The Female Mammalian Compendium, by Tahasaki Ladersyn, Contemporary Reproductive Disorders, by Askaitha Dernysal. Even two books by Dr. Reylands, himself: Modern Reproductive Facilitation, and Genetic Implications of Interspecies Diseases, by Dr. K. Reylands, M.D., OB/Gyn.

But something was bothering her. She kept looking at the books, awards, and other things, trying to figure out what. Then she remembered shaking Dr. Reylands' paw, and slowly reached into her bag for her dart gun.

"That will not be necessary, Mrs. WildeHopps," Kataiahs told her. "I mean you no harm."

Judy turned around, pointing her gun at him. Skye was sleeping peacefully on the table with the lynx sitting on a chair next to her. He had pulled down his mask and held his paws in his lap. It was the same lynx from the painting in Jack's apartment. Nick had been right. Judy realized what had set off her alarms: All those awards, diplomas, certificates, books—even an _elected_ _member_ of the City Council.

And not a single photograph to be found anywhere.

"You shot my mate," Judy said, firing her weapon.

At empty space. The lynx was standing right next to her, holding her paw in his while pinching in such a way that she dropped the dart gun into his other paw.

"Please, Mrs. WildeHopps," he said, pleasantly. "We don't need to do this." Judy reached across instantly with her other paw to catch his in a wrist-hold, but he was already sitting next to Skye again.

"What are you?" Judy asked, afraid now.

"I am a lynx, obviously," Kataiahs said. "Your heartbeat is going out of control, Mrs. WildeHopps. Please settle down; I truly mean you no harm." He put his mask back on. "Miss Skye will be waking up soon. She is sedated so she can remain calm, and I will have to do the same to you if you cannot relax. If it makes you feel any better, your gun is in your bag; you can point it at me if you'd like."

Sure enough, her gun was in her bag. "Not much use in that, I guess," she said, smiling a bit. "Why did you shoot Nick?"

"He was reckless," Kataiahs said, "as he has always been. He needed to be shown the consequences of that in a way that sinks in better than colored paint balls at the Academy; I need him alive."

"What for?" Judy asked, suspiciously.

"All in good time, my dear," he said. "But, do tell me: How did you figure out who I was?"

"Your books," she said. "Half of them were written by authors whose names are anagrams for Kataiahs Lysander, just like your name tag."

"It was that blasted painting, 'Birth of Zootopia', wasn't it?" Kataiahs concluded. "I never should have posed for it. But Lionardo was so good, and been so helpful, I just couldn't say no."

"Lionardo?"

"DaVinni," Kataiahs told her offhandedly, as if personally knowing one of Mammaldom's most significant historical figures was an everyday occurrence. "He was one of my students; he also figured out who I was. Absolutely brilliant chap."

"So I've heard," Judy murmured. "Excuse me, Kataiahs—your name _is_ Kataiahs, isn't it?"

"About as close as I can get it," he told her.

"Do you understand how difficult it is for me to wrap my head around all this?" Judy said.

"Completely," he said, sympathetically. "As I mentioned, you are not the first mammal to figure out who I am."

"Kataiahs," Judy said, frustrated. "I _don't know_ who you are. Just that you shot my husband and seem to be involved in a lot of shady activities including multiple murders, impossibly enough, spanning centuries, and you can move so fast I have no hope of surviving this encounter. I'm really not processing this well."

"I will not hurt you, Mrs. WildeHopps," he reassured her again. "You are very important, and I really mean you no harm. You do know who I am, just not as Kataiahs Lysander—unless you are a history scholar like Mr. Savage is. You might know me as Nikol Teslai, Iscar Mewton, Thormas Edelson, Halbert Felinestein, or Meowchelangelo, for some of my better-known names."

Judy simply stared, speechless at the implications. The father of electricity, the creator of modern physics, inventor of the glow tube, the discoverer of relativity, the most gifted artist in history... all sitting in front of her.

Kataiahs shrugged. "I have a lot of time on my hands," he explained. Skye began to stir. "Can I count on you to remain calm, Mrs. WildeHopps? Miss Skye needs my attention now, and some of it concerns you, as well. What do you say?"

Judy sighed, resigned. "If you wanted me dead, you would have killed me by now," she said. "Skye is my friend, though, and if you hurt her, I _will_ find a way to kill you."

"Splendid," Kataiahs said, slapping his paws on his knees. "I wouldn't have it any other way. You have my word: You won't regret this." He passed a small cylinder under Skye's nose and the vixen opened her eyes. "You seem quite tired, my dear," Kataiahs said. Skye yawned.

"Sorry, Doctor," she said. "What's the verdict?"

"Well," he said. "Good news is, you are fine. I gave your knee a shot of cortisone; that should fix it right up. The other news depends on you, my dear: First, you lost the implant; that is where the blood came from. We can replace it if you want?"

Skye sighed with relief. "No," she told him. "Kits won't hold me back when they come, Doctor Reylands; they will just make my life happier."

"I hoped you might feel that way," he said. "You are a very capable and resourceful mammal, Miss Skye. What will you do about Jack, though, if you want kits?" he asked her.

"Find a way," she said with hope. "Even if he can't give them to me, we'll find a way to work it out. I love him."

"Excellent!" he told her, clapping his paws and reminding Judy of Clawhauser; maybe that enthusiasm was a feline thing. "Which brings me to the next news item," Kataiahs said. "You are pregnant." The vixen gasped, suddenly teary eyes turning to Judy. The doe went over and gave her a hug, staying as far away from the lynx as possible.

"I take it," Kataiahs said, gently, "that you want to keep them?"

"Oh, yes," Skye sobbed. "Are they OK? The last few days have been rough on me."

"Fine as can be," he said. "Barely visible, but you can easily make out certain features. I printed out the sonograms for you." He showed Skye and Judy several printouts of the fetuses. It was difficult to distinguish everything, but there seemed to be four kits.

"Looks like a pawful of boys," Judy chuckled. Skye nodded, smiling.

"Not _quite_ ," Kataiahs said. "Look closer, ladies; those are on their heads—and there are one... two of them on each." They looked closer.

"Those are ears," Kataiahs said. Judy and Skye looked at each other, then stared open mouthed at the lynx.

"Rabbit ears," he told them.

* * *

 _3:00 PM_

Jack verified that Arthur had a date with Patricia Packland, the only she-wolf in the Bunnyburrow Field Office. Patricia told him their date had been set up over a week ago, when Arthur had revealed he was finally going to divorce Candace. The fox had also told Patricia he wanted to move to Bunnyburrow and set up a small financial consulting firm. She thought he was going to pop the question tonight, but she was going to withhold her answer until he actually set up a business and showed her the signed divorce papers.

Arthur's hotel confirmed the tod had checked in and Jack had tasked Ramstein to watch the hotel in case Arthur decided to run. The next move was up to Arthur, so Jack decided to relax for now. He needed Cynthia to help figure this all out, anyways.

Reggie's message had been cryptic, but it was clear he had been contacted by Cynthia: 'Bny. c sky. Key in wheel.'

Jack guessed, through one of Judy's sisters.

Kurt and Blackwell were keeping watch over the Hopps farm. They had informed him about Judy and Cynthia leaving the farm, but that was not unexpected from what Blackwell had said about Cynthia's condition. Jack trusted Judy to be discreet and be able to protect her here in Bunnyburrow, as leaving Nick behind indicated. Lots of rabbits would look like Judy, but a male fox that looked like Nick hanging around with a female bunny that looked like Judy would definitely give their game up.

Jack had made it widely known he intended to visit the Hopps family to pay his respects, so he would go this evening after dinner when things in the burrow should be quieter. His stomach clenched at the thought of seeing Cynthia. He only wished he could figure out what to say. Eloise had told him to tell Cynthia how he felt. If only Jack knew for certain what that those feelings were, it would be easy.

He decided to spend the next few hours trying to figure that out.

* * *

 _3:30 PM_

Reggie and Elena had spent the entire drive talking excitedly with each other. She had graduated top of her class at BSU in Computer Engineering. Then got hit by bunny stereotyping here, in Bunnyburrow, of all places: Nobody would hire a young doe who would just be looking for a husband to father her village.

She admitted there was a lot of truth to the stereotype. Reggie knew this as well; even with the Agency's strict, no-profiling hiring policies, the only does you would find were in non-mission-critical administrative positions. Bunny does younger than forty had an active service life of three months on average, after their year-long training program.

The tod felt completely at ease with the buxom doe as long as he wasn't looking at her; then, he choked up. Objectively, he knew she was not as pretty as Skye by any means, but something about Elena _ticked_ with him on a personal level.

To Reggie, Skye was intimidating in her beauty, an ideal he could never hope to be more than a moth was to a flame. Elena, though, was someone he could _be_ _himself_ with. They had spent more time sharing more about themselves in the last hour than he and Skye had in two days.

Elena made him giddy. Skye struck him with awe.

He preferred giddy.

"So, Reggie," Elena said, suddenly changing subjects from the merits of high-level database query scripting. "Are you going to take me to bed?"

Reggie choked on his own spit. Elena laughed. "Easy there," she said, patting his back with her right arm. "I hope that's not disgust. I know some mammals have a real distaste for crossovers."

"No, no," he said, recovering. "Just swallowed down the wrong pipe."

"I wasn't sure," she said. "You keep trying not to look at me. Do you think I'm ugly?"

"NO!" he said, much louder than intended. "I think you are attractive."

"For a bunny?"

"For any mammal," he said. "Very attractive."

"Have you ever been with a bunny?" she asked, curiously.

"Of course not," he said. "Why would a bunny want to be with a fox?"

"I used to think that way until Judy brought Nick to the burrow," Elena said. "Then I realized he was a better mammal than all the bucks I'd ever dated."

"That is a nice thing to say, Elena," Reggie said, touched by her words. Foxes, especially in Bunnyburrow, were not usually looked upon well. Elena pulled off the road, parking behind some trees.

"I like you, Reggie," she said, taking off her seatbelt and crawling into Reggie's lap. Reggie was near panic, ears flat against his head and eyes wide.

"W-what a-are you doing?" he stammered.

"I'm a country bunny, Reggie," she said, unbuttoning her shirt. "Momma only gave us one rule about boys: Never bed one you can't spend the rest of your life with."

"You want to _marry_ me?" he said, even more alarmed.

She laughed. "How do I know, silly," she giggled, unfastening her bra. "I haven't even slept with you, yet."

"I-I don't get it," he said, staring at her bare chest, trying not to drool.

"You're about to, Reggie," she whispered in his ear, unfastening his shirt. She looked him in the eye. "Unless you don't want me?"

"NO... I mean, yes!"

Elena smiled. "Oh, my, what big shoulders you have," she said, running her paws over his muscular shoulders.

"I work out," he said, bashfully. She patted his flabby belly. "I also eat a lot of junk food," he confessed.

"So, Reggie," she said, sliding her pants down. " _Could_ _you_ spend the rest of your life with a bunny?"

"What about ki-kits?" he stalled.

"You said you didn't want any," Elena said, putting his paw down her panties and giving him a kiss.

Reggie took a deep breath. "What about you, Elena? I thought kits were part of the bunny dream?" He couldn't help himself, running his paw over her privates. Her fur was so soft!

"That's the spot," she purred, arching her back. "I'm not... your average bunny, Reggie... I want… my life to be... more than a... mountain of kits... on a farm."

"You don't want kits?"

"They're not my priority... You have such warm paws." Her own paws went and unzipped Reggie's pants. "Oh, my," she gasped, pleased. "Judy's been keeping secrets." She gave him a long kiss. "Now or never, Reggie. Do you want me?"

Reggie was panting hard. "Elena," he said, pawing her bosoms—they were firm and ample. "Isn't this a little fast to hit a home run?"

"Reggie, you silly fox," she giggled, "I'm a bunny." His faced showed confusion. "You haven't even stepped up to the plate yet, sweetie," she murmured, kissing him urgently. "First base is me sleeping with you _again_." Her paws went into his underwear. "Hmmm," she purred. "Batter up!"

There was a tap on the window. Elena's ears dropped. She lowered the window. "What are you doing here, Margaret!" she scolded the tan doe grinning from ear to ear outside the car. "Can't you see I'm busy? How long have you been there peeping, you mean little fur-ball?"

Reggie scrambled to get his clothes back on. Elena wasn't having any of that.

"Wait till Mom hears of this," Margaret said disapprovingly.

"Wait till she hears you were spying on us," Elena shot back.

"She's the one who told me to wait for you here," Margaret said. Elena slid into the driver's seat and Margaret poked her head inside the car to get a look at Reggie's lap, her eyes going wide. Elena raised the window from the driver's side, catching her sister on the chin and knocking her over on her behind.

"This one's mine," Elena yelled out as the window closed and she started the engine. "Go find your own." She backed up onto the main road, crying, then headed to the main gates a quarter-mile away. Reggie put his paw on hers, making her pull over halfway there.

"What was that all about?" he asked softly. Elena sniffled, both paws on the steering wheel and looking straight ahead.

" _Every_ time I find someone I like, Margaret steals them from me," she said. "She's my litter-mate, I know, but I hate her sometimes."

"You really like me?" Reggie asked, surprised. Elena nodded, biting her lip adorably.

"No one's ever listened to me like you do," she said, sniffling. "You know, not just to get into my pants, nor treated me like I'm more than a kit-making oven."

Reggie leaned over and kissed her. "I like you, too," he said. "A lot. But why don't we get dressed instead of showing up naked at your place?" Elena giggled.

"That might be a good idea...unless you want to...?"

"It's Friday, Elena," Reggie said. "I can spend all weekend with you, if you want. Just don't forget, I came here to help Skye; she's in serious trouble."

"You care about her, don't you?" Elena asked, disheartened.

"She's one of my few friends," he said. "We played around once, but she loves someone else. She doesn't admit it, but she does. And she looks great under the camera, too."

"Can you show me?" she asked, wanting to see if he really did know how to take pictures—she had wanted to be a model when she was a kit. He picked up his phone from where it had ended up on the floor and showed her the photograph she had described to him in the break room. She whistled.

"Now, that's just plain unfair," she said. "How does a mammal compete with that? And she's so sweet, too!"

Reggie smiled. "If it's me you want," he told her with a kiss, "there is no competition. She's my friend, Elena. A best friend, maybe, but that's all. She wants someone else, and I want someone who wants _me_."

"You are so getting to first base," she smiled. "You're _my fox_ , now."

Reggie liked the sound of that.

* * *

 _4:00 PM_

"Alexandra," Lady Abigail called out to her daughter. "Would you get the door, please."

Lady Abigail sat knitting, swaying back and forth in the rocking chair by the sunny window, the one activity that kept her unborn kits still during the day. Only one more month and she would finally be free to look for a new husband on her own terms. Harold had been her fifth and by far the worst. But he had had the decency to die dishonorably, far away from her, so her own honor had remained intact through the scandal.

She knew what it was that had made her husbands behave like they had. She didn't really blame them; she understood them but didn't feel sorry for them in the least. Their unfaithfulness had led to their deaths, as each new husband had challenged each old husband under the banner of adultery, only to later fall prey to the same malady: Abigail's Flemish bloodline.

She was a bunny larger than the average fox.

She had been thirteen when her prestigious but destitute parents had married her off to her first husband, who had plenty of new wealth but no name to go with it. They had promised him a First Wife, just left out certain details about her. Brent had been quite furious, servicing her, then literally kicking her away in disgust. He immediately began having affairs with the females in the Commons, a practice mostly tolerated by all. Share, and share alike, was the game, many times leading to new contracts when more compatible partners were found amongst the residents. But no buck wanted Abigail. They felt intimidated by her size and strength, though many considered her beautiful if seeing her from a good distance.

Single bucks, hungry for a name as prestigious as Abigail's family had, would come seeking a First Wife. They would catch her husband sneaking into the Commons, then blindly challenge him for their victimized mate—and the husband's possessions. And Abigail's story would repeat, with different names.

Abigail was amazingly fertile: Six matings, six pregnancies. It also had meant a lonely life, never to be touched again by her so-called mates, relegated to separate quarters, never allowed to go out in public with her husbands, who didn't want the embarrassment of seeming like the title-diggers they were. No young buck would ever marry a freak doe twice their size unless at gunpoint or seeking quick riches.

Harold had actually taken her twice, the last time during a drunken stupor when he had been unable to talk his way into the Aurora Commons. He had been firmly reprimanded, fined, and sent on an unaccompanied assignment to Zootopia as punishment, with no outside privileges. Before he left, he had stormed into her bedroom, beaten her, raped her, then beaten her again. Abigail had been so lonely and depressed, she had submitted to his abuse just to feel wanted by someone, even a bastard like Harold. She had cried afterwards, not for the physical abuse, but for feeling the way she had.

Harold had come to Zootopia, then stupidly plummeted to his death trying to sneak in to the Commons through a sealed outside window. At first, Abigail thought she should feel responsible: As Alpha, she had denied him and all those title-digging bucks the comfort of a second wife. Then she had woken up: If she could sleep alone, so could they. They all knew where her quarters were. She would have been a very affectionate bunny had they given her the chance. It was all she had ever really wanted to be.

As a wronged widow, she was freed from needing any male's guardianship and could choose another mate or not. But Abigail was looking forward to finding a mate; at least she could enjoy some company while consummating the contracts. As a former First Wife, the blindfold afforded her the right of summary annulment, and she intended to use it liberally until she found someone worthwhile. Just one more month and she could end her twenty-five-year exile from society. She now had wealth to offer along with her name. She could be content at last. Maybe, she dared to dream, even be happy.

The first thing Abigail had done when informed of Harold's death was to recall her kits to the household. The children of previous marriages were traditionally given to the State by the new husband, who would not want to dilute his own offspring's inheritance. He would provide an allowance so they could have a better life than orphans, and also gain their mother's favor. Abigail had ensured her kits' well-being in her marriage contracts, with the right of recall in case of widowhood. Her husbands would otherwise just as well have sent them into slavery, having no good will towards a freak of nature.

Abigail's other kits had remained in Aurora, in the safety of their new home, while Alexandra accompanied her to Zootopia to help her close out Harold's affairs. Alexandra was her eldest, the only survivor from her first litter; her four litter-mates had not survived the Purge following a failed revolution twenty years ago by factions opposed to the Pack.

Alexandra went to the door, spoke at length with someone, then came over excitedly. "Mamá," she said, "Lady Ketryn is here. She says she has a marriage contract for you."

Abigail smiled. "News travels quickly," she said. "Ketryn is a snow leopardess from an honorable family, Alexandra. She has not been confirmed yet, so don't let her hear you say 'Lady Ketryn'. She could take offense."

"Yes, Mamá," her daughter said, too excited to feel chastised. "Should I let her in?"

"By all means, dear," Abigail said with a playful smile. "I have been lonely a long time and could use some exercise." Alexandra grinned at seeing her mother smile and went to the door to let Ketryn bring the document.

That the snow leopardess was agitated could be seen from her twitching tail. She avoided Abigail's eyes as she knelt on one knee and offered the rolled document with both paws.

"Lady Abigail," Ketryn said formally. "A request for marriage has been received. Do you wish to consider it?"

"Absolutely," she chuckled. "My bed has been empty for too many years."

Ketryn cracked a smile. "My Lady," she said. "The candidate is a High Lord, able to support you, from an honorable House, and has affirmed, upon his honor, that he can breed you."

"Breed me? I've had twenty-three kits, with four more knocking on the door," Abigail laughed. "I will settle for a friendly, warm body in my bed." She took the document and unrolled it. The impressive 'brag sheet' attached to the contract set her to wondering. There were only three lagomorph High Houses. Which of the other two could be needing a wife? The contract was not for a First Wife, so the suitor was neither young, nor looking for an alliance.

"There is nothing about my kits," she said. "He does know about them, I presume?"

"He is aware, my Lady," Ketryn said. "He wishes to personally discuss the issue with you."

"As long as he does so before you come back in with the final contract," Abigail said, making a note about it on the fringe of the document. She scented the document and gave it back. Ketryn nodded, initialing the modification.

"Lady Abigail, do you wish the blindfold?" the leopardess said, holding up the silken strap.

"Most certainly," she said. "I intend to enjoy my freedom, Ketryn. But they always to fall off, so I'll take the eyedrops, please."

"As my Lady wishes," Ketryn said, taking out a small vial and squeezing three drops in each of Abigail's eyes. "Your suitor will be chemically blinded as well. Do you require longer than the minimum three hours?"

"I would be surprised if I last five minutes," Abigail laughed. Ketryn chuckled at her high spirits.

"So be it," Ketryn said, bowing formally. "Cameras will be set and recording, but not monitored. These recordings will be sealed with your contract in the vault should any legalities arise that require a review. Sound will be monitored at all times. No sounds but those nature has granted by instinct shall be allowed. That is, no words, music or any sort of schooled communication may take place until the contract has been consummated. At the first sign of communication, the contract shall be deemed ready for confirmation, and the examiners shall enter to verify this. Should the examiners determine a null result, the party at fault shall be charged with failure to honorably close the contract, and appropriate action shall be taken, even to the extent of death, if it is determined fraud has taken place. You will have the right to appeal without prejudice in case of dispute, with your honor and status unblemished should you win. Do you understand all I have said?"

"Yes," Abigail said. "Alexandra, would you be so kind as to go with Ketryn. I can disrobe myself."

"Yes, Mamá," Alexandra said with disappointment as the technicians came in to set up the cameras. She wanted to see who the suitor was.

"Very well," Ketryn said with a final bow when the technicians had finished. "You have five minutes to prepare, then your suitor shall enter. May this contract fulfill all your dreams, my Lady."

"I can still hear you, Alexandra," Abigail said. "Get going now. I will be fine; I've done this before."

She heard them leave followed by the door closing. Abigail felt giddy, grooming herself with shaking paws. There was always the chance the buck who walked in the door would be the buck of her dreams, or so the Ministry of Reproductive Affairs always advertised. House Linden was also reputed to have Flemish ancestry. She had heard one the Grand Duke's sons was very tall...

She heard some heated arguing outside, which quickly subsided before the door opened to let the suitor in. She heard the click of a predator's claws on the floor. Unusual for a suitor to be escorted in, she thought, heading towards the entrance. Perhaps that was what the argument was about.

The door closed, then the clicking resumed, getting closer. Now she could smell the predator and began to panic, nose twitching, backing away as quietly as she could. Had Harold's relatives plotted revenge against her? The kits inside her took notice of her fear and began jumping around in alarm, further agitating the doe. Her heart pounded in her chest, making her wish it would just stop and quit making so much noise. Why had she chosen the eyedrops! She wanted to scream but doing so would amount to the same as dying in the jaws of the savage in the room with her. Just be quiet and Alexandra would inherit everything if the worst happened. She prepared to fight for her life, balling her paws into fists.

She somehow lost track of the predator, then nearly jumped to the ceiling when powerful arms wrapped around her, completely immobilizing her. Warm breath in her ear let her know her time was up.

"I seek a wife," came the slightly amused voice, so low she could barely make it out, "not a meal." A warm, damp nose nuzzled her sensitive ears delightfully. The kits started to kick, drawing a surprised gasp from the predator. His paws gently cradled her belly, feeling the energetic movements inside. She felt him kneel, pressing his ears against her belly. He chuckled.

That made Abigail relax. Already, this predator had shown more interest and kindness towards her than any of her previous husbands. He even seemed genuinely pleased with her unborn kits, pressing his fingers gently against their kicks, then chuckling when they kicked back. Abigail found this to be a powerful aphrodisiac. She caressed the strong face listening against her belly, feeling the sharp teeth behind his furry cheeks. The shape of the face said canine, the size of him said wolf. How remarkable, she thought. How… delicious, she mused naughtily.

Well, they _were_ in Zootopia.

He must have picked up her arousal scent. His paws came up to her bosoms, then stopped. She felt him stand up.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered. "I do not want to hurt the kits." She pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss, then guided his head down below her waist. He obviously was an experienced lover, though not of bunnies. His tongue was warm and _so_ long, however, it didn't matter; Abigail had been optimistic when she'd told Ketryn five minutes. Strong arms caught her gently before she could fall to the floor.

She brought his head to her lips. "Please, my lord," she whispered hotly against his ear. "Again." He growled eagerly, guiding her to lie on the floor, then patiently brought her over the cliff once more. He stood on all fours over her, panting urgently, seemingly unsure of what to do next. Her paws took hold of his malehood and she purred in delight at his size. She had to think a moment, then lay on her side. Large as he was, from all fours he could barely reach her, and she needed her paws to keep him inside her.

It was perfect for Abigail; she had never felt so wanted before, for someone to let her take such absolute control. Her paws could feel him reaching the cliff, but he wasn't in the least aggressive or demanding, more as if he took pleasure in _her_ comfort. Then he stiffened and she unexpectedly found herself falling over the cliff with him.

How remarkable, she thought, feeling him tremble in her paws.

"The examiners may enter," Abigail said afterwards, taking a deep breath.

The examiners entered, silently collected their samples, then left.

"Please rest with me, my lord," Abigail said invitingly. The wolf spooned against her back. He still needed time for his knot to go down, so she reached around and captured him between her thighs. He growled with pleasure.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Abigail."

"I'm Octavio," he told her. "I hope you were not disappointed."

"No male has ever pleasured me before, my lord," she laughed, a little sadly. "I finally know what I have been missing."

"But… I thought…"

"That every contract leads to happiness, my lord?"

"Of course not," he said. "But at least to…?"

"Perhaps for the comely, my lord," Abigail said bitterly. "For us, who are... different, however, a contract does little but seal our fate for a lonely life."

"You don't have a second head, or something, do you?" he asked, playfully.

"Is my lord making fun of me?" she asked, annoyed.

"Not in the least," Octavio said, running his paws appreciatively over her wide hips. He thought she had a much more feminine figure than his other wives. "You certainly feel, smell, and taste wonderful to me. Of course, I am not a rabbit, but I've always heard you are not very... selective."

"I wish that were true, my lord," she said. "Rabbits are just as selective as any other species." Octavio nuzzled her head.

"I never thought I would hear of a bunny too ugly to mate with," he whispered in her ear. "Certainly not one as formidably built as you, Abigail. Perhaps I should make a habit of mating in the dark so my eyes will never deceive me into thinking my wives are unworthy of affection."

"I am already yours, my lord," she purred. "You don't have to seduce me."

"Does that mean I may take you again?" he whispered, nibbling at her ear. Abigail's breath fluttered at the delicate touch of his sharp teeth.

"I am yours, my lord," she whispered back, and Octavio showed her he had really known what to do all along. When they had finished and lay panting in each other's arms again, Abigail decided it was time to discuss her kits.

"My lord," she said. "I require a stipend for my kits."

"Whatever for?" Octavio asked, puzzled.

"So they can afford to live, my lord," she said.

"Why would they need any more to live, Abigail?"

"I beg you, my lord. Have you not found me pleasing? Have mercy on them."

"Have mercy on them? What are you talking about, Abigail?"

"Surely, my lord can spare enough for my kits to afford an education and a more comfortable life?" she cried, finding she really _wanted_ to remain with this wolf.

"More comfortable life?" he asked, thoroughly confused. "Where? Aren't you bringing them with you?"

"E-excuse me, my lord?"

" _I_ am their father now," Octavio said, scandalized. "I expect _my_ kits to stay where _I_ can protect them, where they can be properly cared for and raised. Where—ooooff!"

Octavio found out just how affectionate Abigail could be.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Well? Did I manage to surprise any of you? Anything rubbing too much against the grain?**

 **As always, comments are welcome.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	27. Stage is set

**Author's Note:**

 **Took some time, but here it is.**

 **Some background, fluff, and other stuff.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _4:01 PM_

"Go on ahead, Jemina," Judy told her sister. "I need to talk to Skye—before The Kerfuffle finds out she's back."

"Gotcha," Jemina laughed, leaving Judy alone with Skye.

"How are you feeling?" the doe asked, taking the vixen's paw.

"I'm still in shock, I think," Skye replied happily. "You know what this means for you and Nicky, right?"

"It's been on my mind a lot since we saw the sonograms," Judy admitted. "But I'm asking for another reason. Are you OK?"

"I'm fine, Judy," Skye assured her friend. "Better than I have been in a while. Why?"

"What do you make of Dr. 'K' Reylands' name?"

"What do you mean?" Skye puzzled.

"Did you know he's a lynx?" Judy said. The vixen's eyes went wide, and she took a deep breath.

"No..."

Judy nodded. "It's him," she said. "We talked while you were sleeping."

"Talked?"

"OK. I tried to kill him," Judy mumbled.

"What?" Skye shouted. "How could you miss? How—"

"I didn't stand a chance," Judy said, then recounted the whole incident. Skye took another deep breath.

"That doesn't fit well with Jack's theory, does it?" she said, uncomfortably. "What do your instincts say, Judy?"

The doe sighed. "He could have easily killed us both and didn't," she said. "That makes me want to believe him; you didn't see how fast he could move, Skye. Not even a blur."

"Then we need to change our premise," Skye concluded, if more than a little troubled. She thought for a bit. "Judy? The implant! The name of the inventor was a Dr. Dylarnes. I remember because I looked him up on my phone when I was reading through the literature. His background was solid, but there were no pictures of him. He's affiliated with the Hometown Female Health Mountainview office."

"Where are you going with this?" Judy asked.

"You've been sleeping with Nicky for how many years?" Skye reasoned. "If you're at all like Jack, that's several times a week." Judy blushed; she _was_ a bunny, after all. "I've been sleeping with Jack almost daily for nearly a decade. Then just _three weeks_ after I get a 'contraceptive' implant from 'Dr. D-y-l-a-r-n-e-s' I'm suddenly carrying _bunny_ kits?"

Judy mulled that over. "I think you're on to something," she said. "He made it so you could get pregnant by Jack. But why?"

"I don't know, Judy," Skye said. "I've always wanted kits, just never… then, if you know what I mean. Mind you, I _am_ angry—very angry—he did whatever it was without my permission. But I am happy that it happened." She squeezed the bunny's paw. "He could probably do the same for you, Judy," she said. "You and Nicky could finally have kits."

* * *

 _4:02 PM_

"OH, REGGIE! AGINST MAH TAIL! DON'T STOP! JUS LAHK THAT, DAHLIN! AGINST MAH TAIL! OH, REGGIE! THA'S IT! YOU GORGEOUS FOX! RAHT AGINST MAH TAIL, DAHLIN! OH, REGGIE! RAHT THEHAH! DON'T STOP! OH, REGGIE! OH REGGIEEE! OH, MAH! OH, MAAHHHH OHHHHH... OH... MMMMM... mmm... nnnn... ohhhhhh... ohhh... mmm... nmnm... oh... sweet berries... tek yoh tahm, sweetie... don' rush, beby... I'm yoh bunny... tek yoh tahm... yoh bunny's goin' nowhehah, dahlin'... ohhhh, Reggie... ohhh, dahhlin'... give it to me... ohhh, REGGIE, YES... use me, Reggie... you kin give it to me, beby... Ahm yohs... use me, sweetie, use me... jus lahk—SWEET BLUEBERRY JAM WITH BUTTERED BISCUITS AND TOAST FOR SUNDAY MORNING BREAKFAST, REGGIE, WHAT JUST HAPPENED? WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK THERE? OH, PLEASE, SWEET BLUEBERRIES, YES! TELL ME IT'S _ALWAYS_ GONNA BE LIKE THIS, YOU _WONDERFUL_ MAMMAL! THAT'S IT, REGGIE! LIKE THAT! TOGETHER! BRING ME WITH YOOUUHHMMMmmm... nmnn... nnn... nnghh... mmnnn... nnnhg... ohhh... Reggie... ohh... _dahlin_ '... oh... where have you been hiding all my life?"

That cow-uddered Elena was so disgustingly loud, Margaret thought, listening from her room next door with her ears pressed against the wall. She trembled and slid down to the floor as her busy paws finally brought her long-anticipated climax.

Fat cow that she was, her sister did have good taste in males, Margaret mused. So many dates but she just couldn't make them stay. Probably because she mooed so loud sounding like a country hick, Margaret chuckled. That hippo-hipped sow just didn't know what a male wanted, and that was just fine. Margaret did, which she would prove again.

Her paws went to work once more as she imagined all the things she would do with that tasty fox. With the view of his 'equipment' she had seen inside the car firmly in her head, Margaret quickly brought herself to a shaking climax with eager strokes, then sat panting against the wall, working out in her mind all the details of how she would make Reggie become her next lover.

On the other side of the wall, Elena rested beneath Reggie's trembling body, crouching on all fours with her tail bent up sandwiched between her back and his belly. He completely covered her, like a bedcover, and was just as warm and soft. A buck could never hope to do anything like this! Best of all, Reggie could ride her barebacked, which she had never dared let anyone do until now, without any worries at all about unwanted pregnancies. She had found paradise!

He nuzzled her ears and she turned her head up to French-kiss the fox. His fluffy tail came down between her legs to rub against her belly, keeping her warm from the light breeze coming in through the open third-story window. He'd just told her they would be locked together like this for about ten minutes while his 'knot' went down. That had been an unexpected bonus for Elena, who loved cuddling afterwards, unlike any of the bucks she'd been with, who just wanted to move on to the next activity, usually sleep.

And Reggie's knot was _huge_! Elena didn't think anything was broken, but it had sure felt like it at first. The knot pressed firmly against all the right places, keeping Elena aroused in a way she had never experienced before. Even now, with both of them just keeping still, she felt herself reaching the cliff and she sought his lips urgently, falling over the edge while his tongue danced with hers.

"Oh, Reggie," she panted. "How can I _ever_ go back to a buck after this? I'm spoiled forever. This is incredible!"

Reggie smiled. "I never... ohwwmm... Elena...?" His eyes lost focus, then crossed with a silly grin on his muzzle. She moved in for another deep kiss, feeling him going over the edge again while their lips locked together. After that, Reggie had to lay down because his legs were shaking so much.

Elena nestled comfortably against his torso and Reggie draped his arm over her. "Elena… that was... transcendental," he told her.

"I hope I wasn't too loud," she said, shyly. "Bucks prefer their does real quiet."

"You sounded like you were having a good time," he said, nibbling her ear. "Your accent got really thick. Total turn-on! It was real, wasn't it? You weren't faking, were you?"

"I never fake, Reggie," she said seriously. "You either ring my bell or you don't."

"Did I ring your bell?" he said with a horribly fake country accent.

"You brought down the tower," she purred.

There was a knock on the door. "You kits finished up yet?" Bonnie called from the other side.

"Yes, Mama," Elena said. The door opened and Bonnie waddled in carrying clean sheets, towels and a fox-sized bathrobe.

"Mama!" Elena cried out, scrambling to pull some cover over her and Reggie.

"He's a handsome one, alright," her mother said, setting her bundle down on the dresser. She smiled. "I know I told you to close the air vent when you have a boy in here, Elena. This was the best one yet; had you singing like Polly Darton." Elena blushed.

Bonnie came over to them, casually peeking into the empty wicker trash basket next to the bed. Her smile got much wider. "All that money on speech therapy gone in an hour," she chuckled. "I hope you were more careful, this time; remember how you broke your tail with that Walton buck last year? Couldn't sit for a month."

Elena cringed, blushing a deeper scarlet. A low rumble came from Reggie's chest, the fox pulling the doe in closer against him. Bonnie clapped her paws gleefully and gave Elena a peck on the cheek.

"Oh, he's a keeper," she told her daughter. She rubbed Reggie on the head. "Call me Mom, Reggie. Elena gives you any trouble, you let me know, but she's a sweet little doe, if just a little odd for a bunny." Elena and Reggie both looked quizzically at the matriarch, who left clapping and giggling to herself. "Oh," she told them, closing the door. "Skye and Judy are back. Come on down when you're decent. There's pie and coffee almost ready."

Humming softly to herself, Bonnie waddled down the hall to the elevator, passing by a large air-conditioner vent.

"SWEET BERRY MUFFINS FOR TEA, REGGIE! IS ALL THIS FROM ONE LITTLE FOX?"

Bonnie chuckled. She had worried about Elena, her daughter being so different from her other kits. She wasn't supremely self-confident, like Judy, or iron-willed stubborn like their surgeon-sister Xanetia. Elena was popular with all the bucks, pretty as she was, but could never find one she wanted to keep—or one that would stick around with her own particular version of the bunny dream.

It took Judy and Nicholas falling in love to open Bonnie's eyes that some of her kits might be happier without a rabbit for a mate. It had taken even longer to convince Stu about that, he could be so old fashioned at times, but he also came to realize the same thing and the burrow had hosted quite a bit of other species since. There was plenty of backlash from the community, of course, but once Stu thought something was right, he was by far the most stubborn rabbit in all Bunnyburrow. She loved him for that.

Stu was solid, dependable, a good father, and a great husband. And one hot rabbit when they'd met all those years ago, looking so dashing in his Civil Defense uniform during the border war with Briarland. Bonnie had been a nurse at the time, Stu, a young lieutenant.

The Hopps Clan had dug in on the thousand-foot hill in the small Bunnyburrow-owned district on the "Briarland side" of the Bunnybreak River, a branch of the Bunnybrook River. The hill overlooks the only crossing point along the Bunnybreak without a bridge. The Briarlanders had planned on quickly overrunning the outnumbered bunnies and annexing the district, but the Clan stubbornly held their position for weeks. As neither country could other shift forces away from other stalemated positions along the border, the active war efforts had focused on that one hill, which came to be known as the Battle of Bunnybreak Ridge.

A young ZDF major on detached duty had led the weekend-warrior defenders, which had climaxed with intense paw-to-paw combat when the Briarlanders had thrown all their reserves against the bunnies in a last-ditch effort to take the hill before the joint Commonwealth Council could declare open war. That colonel earned the hearts and respect of Bunnyburrowers by fighting tooth-and-claw next to the Hopps rabbits that last day, standing at the end of the battle with the Bunnyburrow pennant held defiantly over his head, roaring at the retreating enemy. That picture, taken by a brave ZNN reporter stuck without a working video camera and later to become his wife, launched the political career (and several movies) of the then-unknown Major Lionheart.

Bunnybreak Ridge, where the teeth of the once-mighty Briarland Army had broken on the stubbornness of the Hopps bunnies. But victory came at a great price to the Hopps Clan: Virtually an entire generation of bucks had been lost to the meat grinder of war. After Bunnybreak Ridge, Clans were not allowed to form their own battalions anymore, so as not to lose an entire Clan in a single battle.

Stu Hopps was one of the survivors, seriously mauled by a badger. He never spoke about his experience that day unless seriously drunk, and, even then, he would just say he was the one still breathing. Bonnie had been his primary nurse during his long convalescence at the Bunnyburrow VA hospital. They got to know each other and fell in love. Then Bonnie got fired for sleeping with him when one of her co-workers got jealous and reported her.

The Hopps Elders didn't approve of Bonnie Maples at all, wanting Stu to marry within the Great Clans to keep their political power alive after the loss of so many bucks. That triggered Stu's infamous stubborn streak: He hired Bonnie out of his own pocket as his private nurse, got her pregnant, then used that to force their marriage down the Elders' throats. Disgusted with Clan politics, Stu used his VA benefits to move out to the Tri-Burrows area, buy the farm, then merrily helped his bride fill up the hill. Gramps moved in later, allegedly to make carrying out his duties as ElderHopps easier, but really to teach his only surviving son how to farm blueberries in addition to carrots. Then some of Stu's cousins moved in as well, to get away from the places that reminded them of the terrible battle they had fought. Bonnie introduced several of the bucks to her sisters and the Tri-Burrows Hoppses soon became the most prestigious, numerous, and prosperous house of the Hopps Clan.

Gramps had been ElderHopps, the leader of the Hopps Clan, for over thirty years. This earned him one of five permanent seats on the Bunnyburrow Council, which Stu had been filling since the summer. Gramps had already announced he was not returning to the Council, whether he recovered or not. Stu resisted taking over as ElderHopps, wanting nothing more than to be a farmer. Bonnie was helping him to see he could be both by giving him another litter; her pregnancy had restored his confidence to no end. Her mate once again saw himself as a virile, dynamic buck capable of anything, which Bonnie had always seen. And she really wanted another litter—or two, she smiled, her own confidence in her femininity restored with her mate's.

On the ground floor, Bonnie watched Nicholas playing with The Kerfuffle, alternately pouncing after the screeching kits shouting, "big bad fox gonna git you," then scrambling madly for his life to get away from them when the kits remembered they outnumbered him a hundred to one. Bonnie loved having foxes in the burrow—friendly ones, that is. There was something incredibly hopeful about watching traditional enemies grow so close to each other they became family. She thought of Skye, how the vixen had instantly captured the hearts of The Kerfuffle (not to mention the imagination of the older bucks), and Nicholas had long since become a staple in the burrow, always there to help or just raise your spirits.

Reggie would make a terrific addition to the family. Bonnie had questioned Skye extensively about the tod, worried about Elena's romantic tendency to latch on to bucks. She'd mope around pitifully for weeks, broken-hearted, then latch on to the next buck that crossed her path and repeat the cycle. Her daughter had excellent taste in bucks, Bonnie knew: She had brought many fine bucks into the hill that were still here—just not with her.

After the last heartbreak, Elena had jokingly vowed to stay away from bucks, and had been celibate, sort of, for six months. Bonnie really needed to have Stu close off that vent; even alone, Elena put on a concert: That whole wing of the burrow had to be kept free of youngsters. With Reggie around, Bonnie doubted anyone in the wing would get any sleep at all. Bonnie smiled. After Judy brought Nicholas to their home, Bonnie had been worried sick about her daughter and seriously researched foxes.

Foxes would certainly play around as much as any mammal, but never when kits were a possibility. Every species had their own peculiarities, those primal instincts that were a part of their makeup, though mostly suppressed in modern mammals. But some instincts remained strong enough to define the characteristics of a species. In foxes, one of those was selecting the father or mother for their kits; this was a lifelong bond, difficult to break. Mating was serious business for a fox.

Somewhere between the ZIA office building and Elena's bedroom, for whatever reason, Reggie had chosen Bonnie's daughter for his mate. Elena wasn't on contraceptives, so the empty wicker basket meant unprotected sex. For a single doe, that was nothing but an extra thrill; for a fox, it was a major commitment. Bonnie had even tested this by teasing Elena, then watching Reggie growl and turn protective of his chosen mate. Skye was right: Reggie had character and, Bonnie would bet, was just as quirky as her daughter. She made a mental note to get them a bigger bed from storage.

Bonnie frowned. Margaret would be a problem. That doe had a mean streak in her when it came to Elena for some reason. She perversely delighted in being next in line for Elena's bucks or even poached them outright. Bonnie thought about it, then decided to leave it alone. If Margaret could tear Reggie away from Elena, it was better that it happened soon. If she couldn't, then both her daughters might just learn something.

Parenting just never ends, Bonnie mused.

* * *

 _4:30 PM_

Trina wandered along the enormous hall. Two or three hippos could easily walk side-by-side down the tall, vaulted hallway. Construction was made from fitted stone, of all things, something she never expected to see in the Commonwealth; it reminded her of home. She had seen several servants, mostly bunnies, but none of them would talk to her. They didn't ignore her, just… gave her the silent treatment.

The place had the feeling of the ancestral homes in Grandterre. Anyone exploring the hallways would see the long lines of portraits of the earlier heads of the family and other prominent figures in the familial history. Trina noticed the same here, many more than a hundred such paintings. But she knew. She had intimately memorized every feature of her lynx, and she recognized him in every single depiction. Maybe some features were obscured, some removed altogether, sometimes even new ones added, but it was him. As she went down the hall, less than a pawful of the earliest artworks also depicted beautiful female lynxes and even kits, but those were a long, long way down the line, from long, long ago. Not centuries.

Millennia.

Trina's heart broke. She turned and fled back to her quarters, sobbing uncontrollably, understanding finally dawning on the bunny. The servants she passed along the way sighed with sympathy, many having experienced the same thoughts in these lonely halls.

Kataiahs must have returned sometime after she had left to go exploring, because he was standing in front of the glass door to the sunporch. Trina launched herself at the lynx, who caught the weeping bunny in his arms. He held her close, nuzzling her ears, purring loudly to ease her distress.

"You poor soul," she sobbed. "How can you still be so kind and care about any of us?"

"My dearest bunny," he whispered in her ear. "Love is what keeps me going. And the best thing is, there is an unlimited supply of it. One just has to be open to it." He let the doe cry herself out, stroking her ears; bunnies could be so emotional at times.

"Why did you stop, sir?" she sniffled.

"You saw the kits' portraits," he surmised.

She nodded.

"You have heard it said kits are a form of immortality?" he asked. Trina nodded.

"They are not," he said. "Trust me. Watching your entire brood pass away is no easy matter. I found it better for my sanity to maintain short-term relationships."

"The Matriarchs," Trina concluded.

"Among others," Kataiahs told her. "But, as a rule, they are my favorites. I also have a warm spot for equines, believe it or not. Arabians in particular."

"But, how...?"

"Very carefully, my dear," he said. "They kick. But, treat them right, and they let you do almost anything you care to imagine."

Trina giggled. "Sorry, sir," she said. "Just trying to picture it."

"It is far from dignified," he laughed. "But quite pleasurable. Not to mention the boost to a male's ego at having satisfied a mare. They are notoriously finnicky." Trina laughed.

"Thank you for cheering me up, sir," she said, giving him a kiss.

"Always my pleasure," he said. "Would you like a guided tour of the place?"

"I would love it, sir," she replied. They left the room paw in paw, the bunny leaning against his arm. He gave her a brief summary of each portrait, with important events of the time, who the artist had been, what his major challenges had been.

Then they arrived in front of a painting of him and a bunny unmistakably her great-great-great-grandmother, Victoria III—Trina had studied her relative extensively: She had been the one to finally abolish slavery in Grandterre, though it cost her life at the hands of an upstart Grey Heart Brigade. Kataiahs and Victoria were standing together, much like he and Trina were, holding paws with her leaning against him. Faint traces of grey fur showed around her ears, one held high and one slightly drooping in happiness, with Kataiahs looking down at her, smiling.

"You really liked her, didn't you, sir?"

"I loved her," he confessed. Trina examined the picture again, remembering something.

Grey fur.

"Sir," she asked. "When was this portrait made? I was told she died young." Kataiahs' paw gripped hers a little tighter.

"She didn't," he said, so low as to be a whisper. "She passed away at 113. Healthiest bunny I have ever known."

"But... the assassination..."

"Failed," he told her. "Josephine was ready to be Matriarch and Victoria felt she had nothing left to accomplish, so they decided to let everyone think it had succeeded."

"She came here?"

"Where else could she go? She was very insistent about it, too. Not my first choice, mind you. I didn't want her spending the rest of her life alone, rotting away in a dusty old castle."

"What did you do, sir?" she asked. Kataiahs sighed heavily.

"I spent it with her," he whispered sadly. Trina pulled him down, then wrapped her arms around him, giving him a kiss. "You know you must go back, Trina," he said.

"Not for a few more years, sir," she said softly, nuzzling his cheeks.

"We should get on with the tour," he said, taking comfort from his bunny. "I'm taking you out to dinner, tonight. Nothing too fancy, mind you. Sort of a working dinner, actually."

* * *

 _5:01 PM_

Nick hadn't had such a grueling workout since PT finals at the ZPD Academy. The Kerfuffle had, at last, been summoned for supper and would be herded next to the showers, with their final destination being their beds for the night. The tod sat next to his mate, panting, while Judy held his paw, lost in thought. She would talk when she was ready, he knew, and not sooner. This used to drive him crazy, but he had learned it was better to let his mate be when she was in this state. She knew him as well, and leaned against him, purring.

Nick glanced at her in surprise. This particular mood of hers was typically not reserved for purring moments and tickled Nick's curiosity to no end. A low whine escaped involuntarily. Judy smiled up at him.

"Something good, for a change," she whispered, then continued watching Elena and Reggie hack into the phone and CarrotBook Skye had brought from Plainsville. Reggie had his paws on the phone while Elena had disassembled the CarrotBook and was now disabling the hardware security features.

Reggie had been shocked to see Judy and Nick alive, which Elena had not revealed. Nick had been shocked to see another fox mated to a Hopps bunny, especially Elena, who hadn't been seeing anyone before lunch time. Skye had also noticed, trading knowing looks with Nick when their fox noses picked up Reggie's mark on the bunny. Not to mention Elena's mark was all over the tod. The couple wore that particular goofy smile of newly bonded pairs on their faces, both startled and smug at the same time.

"All yours, sweetie," Elena told Reggie, showing him the working CarrotBook. "I'm no good at the software stuff, though. This mammal's using DeltaCrypt Gold."

Reggie looked up from the phone. "Damn. They're only supposed to be using Agency encryption tools. DeltaCrypt has the toughest algorithm out there: 10K, rolling-carry encryption.

"You'll get it, baby," she said with a kiss to his cheek. Reggie's tail wagged.

Skye sat demurely by herself on a loveseat, 'glowing' in a way that made Nick smile. He had already concluded she was pregnant from events over the last couple of days (or so he kept telling himself.) Obviously, the trip to the doctor had confirmed it. Poor Judy; he already knew her surprise.

"Got it," Reggie said, passing the phone to the vixen and starting on the CarrotBook.

Skye methodically went through the information on Arthur's phone, from call logs to message history to photos. Most information had been wiped three weeks ago. The only interesting items were a folder full of incriminating pictures of Arthur's wife, Candace, with a surprising number of, mostly, canine males, and a long-going correspondence chain with a divorce attorney in Plainsville. _Happy marriage my tail,_ Skye thought.

"This isn't working, Skye," Reggie finally said, having spent the last twenty minutes trying to bypass the CarrotBook's encryption software. "If I keep this up, we're liable to lose any data on here." Elena was rubbing his shoulders trying to keep him relaxed. Skye was looking through the phone's calendar, about four months ahead.

 _March 14: Tonya BDAY._

"Judy," she asked, looking up. "On the news, last night. What was the name of that vixen? Tonya something."

"Ryzhaya," Judy told her. Skye smiled.

"Try 'scarlet fox'," she told Reggie. The tod typed, then shook his head.

"Why that, Skye?" he asked.

"Ryzhaya means 'scarlet fox' in Baratean. Arthur has a birthday marked for a Tonya," Skye said.

Reggie smiled, typed in something, then set the unlocked CarrotBook in front of Skye. "Mammals never seem to learn how to make passwords," he said. "They usually pick something significant to them, then personalize it; 'scarlet fox' isn't personal, Skye. 'Red Vixen' is." Elena squealed and jumped on his back.

"I knew you could do it!" she said, kissing his cheek.

* * *

 _6:00 PM_

"Welcome back, my lord," Chia greeted her mate. "And you must be Abigail," she said warmly to the huge bunny with Octavio. She gave each a hug and a kiss, though Octavio's lasted much longer and was very intimate. Alexandra was leading both blinded mammals by the paw and bowed low when she came before Chia. The she-wolf raised her up and pulled her into a hug as well, though Alexandra was obviously uncomfortable.

"Alexandra, I presume?" Chia asked the younger bunny.

"Yes, my lady," came the guarded reply. Chia knelt before her, so their eyes were at the same level.

"Nonsense, Alexandra," she said, raising the bunny's face with her paw. "You are also my daughter now. _This_ household _will_ be united. I shall endeavor to be impartial, dear, as I expect _all_ our family to be. I know it will be difficult while we adjust to each other, but you should not be afraid, nor timid: You are the eldest daughter of House Belyiklyk. We will depend on you to help look after and train the youngsters."

Alexandra stared suspiciously at Chia. "I want to believe you, my lady," she said, as polite as she could. "I truly do. My lord Belyiklyk has made my mother happy, by some miracle, and I am eternally grateful for that, but I find all this hard to believe from a ruling member of the Pack."

A tear fell from Chia's eye. "I understand, Alexandra," she said, taking off the ruby ring from her left middle finger and placing it on Alexandra's left middle finger. Alexandra gasped. Palila and Windbright, sitting nearby, came closer, watching the exchange in amazement.

"Alexandra?" Abigail called, alarmed. "What's the matter, dear?"

"She—Lady Chia—gave me the Signet Ring of the Crown Princess," Alexandra muttered, disbelievingly. Abigail tugged Alexandra's ear like to a daydreaming bunny kit.

"And what should you say to your mother, Alexandra?" she chided gently, hiding her own amazement. "I raised you better than this."

"But... this... Mamá, this can't be real... can it?"

"I made love to a wolf three times today who wants me for a wife and my kits as his own, Alexandra," Abigail said softly to her daughter. "I think our idea of reality has fallen severely out of date."

"Three times?" Palila said to Octavio with mock outrage. "My lord owes me some attention, I believe."

"Not if I catch him first," rumbled Windbright.

"Sisters," Chia laughed. "I'm afraid I will have to exercise my rights as Alpha, as I am the only one of us not pregnant yet." She growled with desire. "You may do with him as you wish when I'm done. Alexandra? Please be a darling and fetch Abigail's and your things. Take your time, dear. Your father will be busy with us for a while."

"You ladies will be the death of me," Octavio chuckled, a little nervously.

"But it will be such a _pleasurable_ death, my lord," Windbright purred.

"Can we watch, sister?" Palila wondered, mischievously. Chia laughed.

"Dear sister," she said, giggling. "I was hoping more for… active participation."

Octavio whined.

Alexandra left her… parents, smiling widely, sensing monumental changes in the air. A bunny in line for the Throne? How would the Pack react to that? Her mother— _mothers_ , she corrected herself—seemed happy and unconcerned about it. Alexandra would do what she could to keep them that way. She suddenly wondered if she could get a tour of the city while she was here; the more she thought about it, the more real Zootopia's motto seemed to her:

 _Be anything_.

* * *

 _6:30 PM_

Sunny skies were invaded by small fluffy white clouds, which turned darker and more ominous as Arthur drove closer to the border, eventually taking over the sky to spit out lightning and thunder with abandon. This huge storm would hit Zootopia by the next afternoon, he guessed, making the zone climate conditioners work overtime. It was late enough in the year for hail to fall instead of rain, the ice striking the cheap rental car loud enough to be bothersome.

The car he had rented this morning was still parked at the hotel, where he had programmed a list of on-demand movies to play in his room all night before changing his appearance and vanishing onto a tour bus to the Aerodrome to pick up the rental car he was now driving. The tod had rented this particular car a week ago under a false identity created and nursed many years ago for just this eventuality.

He had called Octavio from a disposable prepaid phone at the one-hour mark as directed. Chia had answered, saying Octavio was occupied, then had given him instructions to meet his extraction contact, who would have all the paperwork he needed to get to Aurora. The conversation had been a model of fieldcraft, completely casual, the kind heard every day from mammals going on a weekend trip. She had not even used his own name, calling him Gilbert instead. Chia was a natural. Likely a survival trait developed during her troubled childhood.

He approached the border crossing, slowing down to a stop at one of the lighted booths. The Zootopian guards simply glanced at his passport through the window and waved him by, not wanting to get wet. The guards on the Labtierre side at least looked at his picture and made sure the rental car included international insurance.

Arthur thanked them for their trouble and drove another ten miles to a large rest area featuring several convenience stores, restaurants, and even a decent tourist hotel. This area catered to Zootopian tourists, whose standard of living was ten times better than the locals, even accepting Z-dollars at a good exchange rate. Arthur had never driven to Labtierre, though he had visited the capital, Jarie, several times and knew enough of the local language and customs to survive without a guide—critical skills for a field agent to develop. He would never pass for a local, though: Labtierre was mostly populated by cows.

The tod parked among several cars with Zootopia plates, then checked in to the hotel, paying with cash to the clerk's delight. Going up to his room, he picked up a local newspaper, some ice and soft drinks, then showered and changed clothes to look less like a Zootopian tourist and more like a wealthy local. Arthur was tired. These last few days had drained him to the core, physically, mentally, and emotionally; the only sleep he had gotten in four days came from Skye's tranquilizer shot. He hoped we was doing the right thing, though he knew he had a knack for doing the wrong thing, if for the right reasons.

He went down to the hotel restaurant and ordered a vegetarian meal. They had good seafood in Labtierre, but it was very expensive at the tourist hotel, and he was keeping a low profile. Arthur liked tofu, anyway, and the chef did an excellent job, to his surprise. After the meal, Arthur considered an aperitif, then thought better about it: He was being watched. Green, hooded evening cloak, three booths behind his, six booths to the entrance. The hood was pulled over her head, perfectly normal for this time, it was a female because the garment style was exclusively feminine, and by her size, she was a vixen. She was well-trained in surveillance, avoiding windows, mirrors and other reflective surfaces that could give her away. She was not even facing him. But Arthur was the best: He looked at reflections on water pitchers, serving-dish covers, glasses. Even on the polished stainless-steel trays the waiters carried tucked at their sides after delivering an order. All he needed was an occasional glimpse catching the other fox looking every other way _except_ his. Perhaps his contact? If so, she was early, and shouldn't even be in the hotel—a critical break in protocol.

Arthur signed the bill to his room, then wandered towards the entrance, paws in his pocket around the grip of his gun. He flipped the weapon to non-lethal before casually sliding into the vixen's booth directly across the table from her. A familiar, almost forgotten scent came to his nose.

"Hello Arthur," Kasani said. "I always knew you were a spy."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Did you enjoy this chapter? I was going to add quite a bit more, but decided to just split into two chapters. The next one will be busy, I think.**

 **As always, comments are welcome.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	28. Guess who's coming to dinner

**Author's Note:**

 **Sorry it took so long. There was a lot of slash/burn/editing.**

 **As always, opinions and comments are welcome!**

 **Enjoy this next installment!**

* * *

 _6:45_ _PM_

Driving Reggie's car, Jack followed the map on his phone's navigation app to the Hopps Farm. They lived south of Bunnyburrow City Centre, which put them a thirty-minute drive from the remote Agency complex. He was impressed at the size of the property; Stu Hopps had done well for himself.

The phone rang in secure mode drawing Jack's attention away from his thoughts about Cynthia. He looked at the incoming caller ID: Chief Bogo.

"Good evening, Chief," he answered chipperly, putting the phone on paws-free.

 _"Don't I wish,"_ the buffalo commiserated. _"I'm hoping you can help me with something."_

"I will do my best Chief," Jack said. "But I am not sure what I could do that the Mayor could not much easier."

 _"Well,"_ the chief said, _"this concerns the Ryzhaya case."_

"Of course, it would," Jack mumbled. "When it rains Barateans, it pours. What can I do for you, Chief?"

 _"As 'fortune' would have it,"_ Bogo told him, _"we found a positive match for the weapon used on the victim."_

"That is fortunate indeed, Chief," Jack said, wondering at the frustrated tone in the buffalo's voice. "Something tells me, however, it is not all _good_ fortune."

 _"It's a Wolfram WDY-22,"_ the Chief revealed.

"A Woody-22? Those are Federal-issued, self-defense weapons," Jack said, surprised. "ZIA and ZBI, mostly. So, Chief, who is our culprit?"

 _"That's where I hope **you** can help, **Director** Savage,"_ the buffalo said, letting Jack know he had finally figured out the buck's position in the Agency. _"The results came back 'CLASSIFIED - EYES ONLY - LEVEL 8.'"_

"Level 8 means senior personnel, Chief," Jack told him, understanding Bogo's frustration now. "And, please call me Jack; 'Director' makes me feel I should be sitting bored in an office all day."

The Chief laughed at that. _"Like me? You must have one heck of a staff, Jack."_

"That, I do, Chief," Jack confessed. "Send me the files. I will have that excellent staff of mine look into it at once. Just remember, I can only get access to Agency records."

 _"On their way, Jack,"_ Bogo said. _"But I think you feel as I do, that the Baratean connection makes an Agency perp a tempting choice for a betting mammal."_

"I would certainly make that bet, Chief," Jack told him, thinking about Arthur's sudden resignation. He used a somewhat-speciest Bunnyburrow expression he'd heard that morning. "I have a feeling a fox has gotten into the henhouse."

 _"Let me know what you find out, Jack. See you at the funeral, on Monday."_

"My pleasure, Chief," Jack said, hanging up. The phone chimed next with the receipt of the data file from Chief Bogo. Jack sent it to Matilda, then gave the ewe a call.

 _"Hi, Jack,"_ she said. _"Did you have anything to do with Arthur's resignation?"_

"Took me quite by surprise," he told her, truthfully. "He laid out a convincing story, with plenty of evidence to support his position. He even offered me a job in the finance business."

 _"I hope you didn't say no,"_ she teased. _"The way things are going, we both might be out of a job soon."_

Jack chuckled. "I just sent you a file," he said. "Chief Bogo's officers found out a Woody-22 was used in the Ryzhaya murder with a Level-8 roadblock in front the owner."

 _"You did tell him we can only check Agency records, right?"_ she said.

"Most certainly, Matilda," he assured her. "Are you at the office, by any chance?"

 _"Where else would I be, Jack?"_ she deadpanned.

"Well, about that, Matty," he said. "Are you still seeing that ram in Plainsville?"

 _"Where are you going with this, Jack?"_

"You like him, don't you?"

 _"Are you looking for advice about Skye?"_ she asked, suspiciously.

"I will take anything you have, Matty, but no," he said. "I overheard you saying you wanted to spend more time with Marcus—it's those big ears of mine, you know."

 _"OK, Jack,"_ she said. _"Spit it out. What are you up to?"_

"I _may_ have recommended you for Arthur's position," he said, timidly. "You're not angry at me, are you? I cannot think of any mammal more qualified for running that department... Matty…? Are you there…? You're angry, aren't you?"

 _"I don't know what to say, Jack,"_ Matilda said, flustered for once. _"Who's going to take care of the office when I'm gone? …Nobody even knows how to make a decent cup of coffee..."_

"I think we can survive, Matilda," Jack said, affectionately. "Ops needs cleaning up and you're the mammal for the job."

 _"When do I start?"_ she asked.

"Tuesday," he told her. "Memo should be in on Monday, after the funeral. I would really appreciate it if you could run that registry check tonight, though."

 _"I'll get right on it, Jack."_

"Thank you, _Director_ ," he said.

 _"Remind me to kiss you next time I see you,"_ she said. _"And, just tell Skye you love her, Jack. She probably knows it, but it's much better when you say it—as often as you can. Foxes are extremely sensitive that way."_

"I shall endeavor to follow your advice, oh wise sheep," he said, hanging up. He was nearing the gates of the Hopps farm.

Jack pressed the call button on the small pedestal rising from the ground next to the road in front of the gates. After a few seconds, a male voice answered.

 _"Who's there?"_ asked the voice, sounding metallic and far away on the little speaker.

"Jack Savage," he said. "Here to pay my respects to the family."

 _"Savage? We don't need no stinkin' savages here, mister,"_ came the outraged response.

"I am not _a_ savage, sir," Jack said. "My _name_ is _Jack_ Savage. I was a friend of Judith and Nicholas." There was some loud feedback, making Jack's ears go flat against his head.

 _"What kinda mammal names themselves, 'Savage,'"_ complained the voice. _"Why can't they just pick for themselves a common name, like Chloroprodsky, or something?"_

"What?"

 _"I mean, why pick a name all controversial like that?"_ the metallic voice said. _"Might as well call yourself Broccoli and be done with it, if you know what I mean."_

"I don't follow you, sir," Jack said, then cringed at his poor choice of words.

 _"You wanna shock mammals with your name,"_ the voice ranted, _"at least pick one that don't scare half of'em to death. You can't just walk up to mammals and say, 'Hi, I'm Savage.' They'll just start runnin' away, know what I mean? Just say, 'Hi! I'm Broccoli,' and the they'll tell ya 'Wow, that's an unusual name,' right? I—"_ More feedback, then, _"Give me that, Tommy. Wait till your ma hears about this,"_ came another voice. _"Can I help you, mister?"_

"My name is Jack," he repeated. "I'm here from Zootopia to pay my respects to the family."

 _"Grey hare? Stripes on your face? They've been waiting for ya. Come on in. Be sure to use the underground parking lot; supposed to be a storm coming soon."_

The gates swung open and Jack drove through. The sun was setting, sinking behind the hill that was the Hopps burrow, the lights from inside shining through the many windows and making the home look like a bejeweled mountain. Jack whistled. That was a lot of bunnies.

He reached the front of the burrow, from where he could see a massive lighted archway a short way down the road leading down to a vast underground parking area. There were at least two hundred vehicles, from passenger cars to trucks to combines. A big sign hanging above the entrance said, 'Put keys in matching slot at door – No exceptions!'

As soon as Jack had passed into the main lot, chain shutters dropped down to close off the entrance. He found an empty space marked 'Guests' near the doors leading to the burrow, then put his keys in the transparent plastic box that matched his parking space number. Highly organized, he thought with approval—definitely necessary with a small town living on the premises: The Hopps farm even had its own zip code, he'd found out.

An attractive young doe was waiting attentively for him at the door. She gave Jack an appraising look, smiling wide.

"I'm Margaret," she introduced herself, offering the back of her paw. She didn't have that twangy Bunnyburrow accent, surprisingly enough to Jack. "You got here just in time for dinner. We're having a special treat tonight with so many guests here. Restroom's around the corner if you need to freshen up."

"That won't be necessary, Margaret," he told her, kissing her paw gallantly. The doe's eyes widened at Jack's upper-class foreign accent. "Call me Jack." Margaret's nose started twitching.

"Follow me, then, Jack," she purred, leading him through the burrow. It took a few minutes, but they arrived at a formal dining hall while the small table—it only had seating for thirty—was still being set.

"Are you good with numbers?" Margaret asked.

"Depends on the numbers," Jack said.

"4-7-4-2," she said.

"4-7-4-2?"

"That's my room number when you're ready for dessert," she purred, stepping up on her toes to plant a thorough kiss on his lips, then leaving Jack alone to stare at her retreating figure. Jack whistled. _'Country bunnies,'_ he thought.

His ears picked up conversation from an adjacent archway. Then his heart fluttered when Cynthia's rich laugh broke through the conversation. He stood there, listening to the vixen's voice, not really paying attention to what was being said, and then he was suddenly standing in the archway, looking into a small lounge with comfortable couches arranged around the room.

Nick was visibly upset, with Judy sitting on his lap, stroking his face and talking softly to him. On the same couch, Reggie sat with a stunningly attractive doe on his lap, both of them lost to the world around them, whispering to each other and giggling like teenagers. On another couch, Jack recognized Stu Hopps from pictures and guessed the pregnant doe next to him was Bonnie Hopps, Judy's mother, who was talking to Cynthia, sharing stories about her kits.

Jack stood there, captivated by the vixen. She was bruised and cut, with a sports bandage wrapped tightly around her knee, wearing her old, at-home old exercise clothes. She was the most beautiful mammal he had ever seen.

She caught sight of him and paused mid-sentence, her eyes lighting up and her posture relaxing noticeably.

"Jack," she said, in the tone he'd only heard when they were alone.

"Cynthia," he mumbled, everything else he'd rehearsed forgotten, unable to break through years of hiding his feelings. They stared at each other in silence until Stu broke the moment by standing up.

"Perfect timing," the patriarch said, cheerfully coming up to Jack to shake his paw. "I'm Stu Hopps. This is my better half, Bonnie; my daughters Jemina, Dalia and… the one glued to Reggie is Elena; then my sons Jethro and Kevin. Of course, you know Skye; Reggie; our 'dead' daughter Judy; and her mate, Nicholas."

"A pleasure to meet you all," Jack said, pleasantly.

"And, let's not forget our other guests," Stu said. Jack turned around to see the mammals he had missed sitting on the couches behind him. He understood Nick's mood, now, as Stu introduced them.

"Dr. Reylands and his lovely assistant, Trina."

* * *

 _7:04 PM_

Even taking her time and waiting for the chaperones, Alexandra had only needed twenty minutes to fetch their things; two travel cases didn't need a lot of preparation. Now she sat outside the sleeping room, where she had spent the last forty-five minutes blushing furiously while her father serviced his wives. As a twenty-four-year-old Baratean, Alexandra was no stranger to mammals mating given that public coupling between married mammals was not unusual in the northern-most nation. Whether in the booths at the theater, or in the park during one of the few warm days of summer, it was considered a sign of a strong union, and, sometimes, even required to settle disputes when a challenge was made against a spouse by outside parties looking to dissolve the marriage. Deliberately taking your mate in front of someone could also be a veiled insult to the observing party, showing their insignificance, or it could be a polite, subtle assertion of the mating couple's dominance. In poorer households where the whole family slept in the same room to save heat, mating was a simple fact for kits, something their parents did together.

What had the doe blushing was her mother, Abigail. As inexperienced as the older doe was in practice, she turned out to be a vast encyclopedia on techniques, positions and mammalian physiology. Blinded, as she and Father had been at the start, she recited detailed instructions on how Father could best please his other wives, and even taught him a move that had set Mother Chia howling with pleasure.

When Father had finished with Mother Chia, Mother Abigail had explained to her sister wives how to get Father ready again quickly, obviously showing them and not just talking. Abigail's passionate cries were proof of success. Nor were these the measured, faked cries Alexandra remembered from Abigail's contract with her second husband. Abigail was completely lost in her desire for Father, finishing in a few seconds before sending him on to Mother Windbright, having 'warmed him up.'

Again, Abigail guided the couple, Mother Palila and Mother Chia clapping giddily and commenting on the performance. Mother Windbright's sensuous growls sent chills up Alexandra's spine.

"I'm ready for you this time, my lord," the feline purred, then roared in ecstasy. Then Abigail demonstrated her technique once more, loudly 'warming up' Father for Mother Palila.

"Hello, Abigail," Father said sweetly, regaining his eyesight. "You are as beautiful as I thought."

"And you are as handsome as I dreamed," Abigail said, crying out in passion. Settling down, Abigail purred loudly. "Sister Palila is anxious for your company, my lord," she said.

"Disappointed, my lord?" came Mother Palila's sad question.

"Only that I missed seeing you the first time," Father told her sincerely.

Alexandra was having trouble reconciling what she had researched about Father and what she was hearing. Where was the cruel, cold, calculating brute that had terrorized the Empire for over twenty years as the Pack's enforcer? She saw no sign of the famously vicious temper touted by his opponents. She sat amidst his collection of vanquished foes and couldn't come to terms with how the mammal in the next room could have accumulated such a fantastic display of brutality.

Mother Abigail's advice soon had Mother Palila moaning. Alexandra heard a light slap.

"There is just one rule, my lord," Abigail said. "Paws on the mate you're with. All we have, all we are is yours; so, when you are with one of us, we deserve your _full_ attention." Alexandra's other three mothers all growled their agreement.

"But, you…" Father protested.

"And, don't argue with us," Mother Chia added with finality.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Father said meekly.

"Are you back, yet, Alexandra?" called out Mother Chia.

"Yes, Mamá," Alexandra responded.

"Well, come in, dear," Chia told her. "It is so dreary out there with all those stuffed animals. I don't want you having nightmares tonight."

"Yes, Mamá," Alexandra said, coming into the room. Mother Palila lay on her back, her arms and legs wrapped greedily around Father, who had a dreamy look on his face, his hips thrusting in a strange motion against Palila's. She tenderly nuzzled his head, her own eyes showing a far-away look. Alexandra's other three mothers were cuddled against the polar bear.

Windbright and Chia had their ears pressed against Abigail's belly, listening to her kits and fascinated by the little kicks coming from inside. Abigail had a blissful look of contentment on her face, bathing in her sister wives' acceptance of her as an equal partner in the marriage, one arm around Chia and one around Windbright.

Alexandra was overwhelmed by the dynamics taking place before her and wished she had a camera. She began to believe it was all real. Father wasn't mechanically servicing Palila or simply using her as a convenient receptacle to pleasure himself. He was taking comfort in her embrace, enjoying the wonder that was Palila while trying his best to give her pleasure and make her feel wanted.

"I believe Father is falling asleep," Alexandra said.

"I just didn't have the time to properly introduce myself to Palila, this afternoon," Father mumbled.

"You were wonderful, my lord," Palila moaned.

"I was rushed," he apologized. "Now I can truly enjoy your beauty."

"Are you drooling, Father?"

"Why are all you ladies picking on me?"

"We're not picking on you, my lord," Windbright said. "We are merely enhancing your inherent ability to give and receive pleasure." Chia laughed.

"Remember, my lord," Abigail said, "swing upwards at the end."

"He is doing it perfectly," Palila moaned urgently, hips rocking now.

"I believe our sister has reached the top of the rollercoaster," Chia said.

"Too soon," Father panted as Palila quivered from tip to toe.

"I'll take care of it, my lord," Windbright said, mischievously snaking her tail around his and snapping it tight. Father yipped and went rigid, his eyes rolling back into his head with pleasure.

"What happened?" asked Chia.

"How did you do that?" asked Abigail.

"Do it again!" groaned Palila.

Father drooled.

Alexandra sighed happily. "I love you," she told them all, then went to fetch clothes for her parents. They had dinner scheduled with Lord Chalcedon in thirty minutes, though the Ambassador was likely only expecting Mother Chia. Oh, well, she thought, laughing. He had said for Father to bring his wife. He would.

All four of them.

* * *

 _7:20 PM_

Nick was not a happy camper. It was bad enough that Judy had not told him about encountering the lynx who shot him, but then inviting him over to dinner? She was still holding something back from him, but that was the thing about trust: He knew that if Judy believed it was the least bit dangerous, she would tell him about it.

That was also baking his cookies: His mate believed having dinner with the mammal that almost killed him was a _good idea_. It was driving him crazy. What did she know that she wasn't sharing? He took the time to study the lynx and his 'assistant' that reeked of the lynx. Not that Nick could hold that against him. Trina was a classy bunny, also very sexy in that black fur and white mini, though Nick was aware he was biased when it came to black fur.

And the bunny's table manners were impeccable. Better than Nick's mother, whom he had always thought had the best manners he'd ever seen. Which led to another sticking point: The lynx had manners just as good, or even better, making Nick frantically brush up on his own. That Jack and Cynthia also had better manners than he was used to showing only made Nick redouble his efforts, making Judy look at him with surprise—and a little annoyance: Judy's table manners were definitely on the informal side. Served her right for holding out on him.

Cynthia was on the verge of tears, though Nick doubted anyone but himself could see it. She kept glancing at Jack, who had been seated across the table from her, right next to the black bombshell in the white mini. The two rabbits were getting along famously, speaking in different languages, talking about faraway places, strange customs, and everything in between. The lynx was completely unconcerned that his marked female was consorting with another attractive male. He was conversing with Stu and Bonnie about several big local issues the City Council was considering. Not a single hint that he was a cold-blooded murderer who had almost made Judy a widow, of course.

Cynthia was pregnant, but the mammal she really loved was a rabbit, who had eyes for everyone but her. Nick wanted to cry as well. He would talk to Judy; she seemed to have gotten close to Cynthia, and this was the kind of thing girls handled better by themselves. And he definitely didn't want Cynthia to mistake his concern for anything but what it was. Maybe he could speak with Jack to better test the waters—if the buck didn't shack up with Black Beauty, tonight.

"What are you planning, Slick?" Judy whispered, sensing his mood.

"I'm thinking about talking to Jack," he whispered back.

"Keep your nose out of it, Nick," she whispered tersely. "It's under control."

"Cynthia's falling apart," he said. "It's bad enough she's pregnant, but she's in love with Jack. I can't just _do nothing_ , Fluff."

Judy smiled, touching his paw. "Don't worry, Nick," she whispered. "Jack's the father."

" **WHAT DO YOU MEAN, JACK'S THE FATHER?!** "

* * *

 _7:25 PM_

They strolled confidently down the Promenade, Abigail in front, Octavio behind her, arm in arm with Chia and Windbright. Palila was behind, being the youngest, though proudly wearing the yellow gold tiara of Second Wife. Alexandra had remained behind in their quarters, guarded by several leopardess friends of Windbright; Chia was not ready for the world at large to see the Crown Princess signet on another's paw just yet. That Chia did not wear the ring was understandable with her diamond wedding ring taking its place, complementing the bejeweled white gold tiara of First Wife.

Word had traveled fast about Octavio's afternoon activities, with mixed reactions among the mammals they passed. The four brides wore their wedding gowns with the slits of their skirts worn to the front, showing Octavio had taken them irrevocably as his wives. They were no longer under a betrothal contact: They all bore the mark of House Belyiklyk.

The group was chatting and laughing amongst themselves, with ample interruptions in the form of greetings from well-wishers. At this time of the evening, many of the females from the Commons were out with their betrothed, coming over to give hugs to the brides, having spent time with them in the Commons. The brides gave hugs to all who came, a token of forgiveness for past slights. Chia would whisper something to each, always smiling pleasantly. Those who had been friendly in the Commons always gave more hugs and kisses afterwards; those who had not, gave respectful bows and left without turning their backs, grateful they would be let live.

Friendly males would clap in admiration, others, nod politely. None would dare show the least disrespect to the wolf, regardless of how wide Octavio was smiling or fast his tail was wagging. The wolf carried the scent marks from four females of different species, including a polar bear. That made most males uncomfortable, though not for all the same reasons.

They were leaving the Promenade when they passed by a couple of hare bucks dressed in the garb of mid-level embassy functionaries. Abigail gave a sharp, indrawn breath, her ears wilting down behind her head. Octavio stopped at once, almost colliding with Palila, who quickly stepped aside. Before his wives knew what was happening, Octavio had a buck in each of his paws hanging by their ears, his jaws snarling and showing all his teeth.

"I was having the most pleasant day of my life until now," he growled. "Now _you_ will explain to my wives why your blood will be spilled on their wedding day."

"My lord!" one of them cried out, "It was Haredd who spoke!" Octavio shook his head in disappointment.

"I hate cowards more than insolent curs," Octavio growled near the buck's ears. The buck lost control of his bladder. Abigail laughed.

"Do not soil your paws, my lord," she laughed. "I don't know how the words of such worthless garbage could affect me. They are not worthy of cleaning my toilet, yet alone having an opinion that disturbs my thoughts." She came over and nestled against Octavio, staring at the rabbits.

"I am the _smallest_ of my husband's wives," she purred, marking Octavio again. "He has _no_ problem reaching where you may only dream."

The thought of how many years of abuse Abigail had endured, yet could still show mercy, infuriated Octavio even more. The second buck saw his eyes go feral and lost control of his bladder, as well.

"Octavio, my love," Chia called softly. "You will spoil your appetite with _both_ of them." The implications of her words were not lost on the rabbits; their bowels let go. Palila and Windbright laughed.

The way Chia said his name, with pride, love, and joy broke through Octavio's rage. His breathing slowed and his eyes regained their normal hue. The laughter, coming from all his wives now, calmed him down completely. He let go of the bucks' ears with distaste, wrinkling his nose at the stench coming from the two rabbits. He turned away from them, making sure he didn't step in their mess, and gave Abigail a kiss before silently leading her away.

"It would be so much better for you if we never see you again," Chia said cheerfully to the rabbits. "My sisters and I always seem to be hungry lately." Facing three sets of exposed fangs instead of one propelled the rabbits to make a hasty exit.

Windbright shivered sensuously. "Why am I feeling frisky all of a sudden?" she said.

"You are feeling valued," Palila said.

"It is all part of love, sisters," Chia told them sagely. "The ones you love become more valuable to you than yourself."

"Does it make you _want_ to please him?" Windbright asked.

"Disturbingly so," Chia confided.

Palila ducked her head guiltily and knelt before Chia. "I think I am falling in love with Octavio," she apologized. Windbright followed suit. Chia hugged them both, comforting them while they all shed happy tears.

Mammals passing by gave them a wide berth, wondering what tragedy could have befallen three weeping brides on their wedding day.

* * *

 _8:00 PM_

"You won't need your gun, Arthur," Kasani said. "I am unarmed."

"There is a K&K32 in your left inside-pocket," Arthur pointed out.

"Chia was right," she said, amazed he had noticed the weapon. "We do need you."

"You work for the Intelligence Ministry now?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'm a Ballerina with the Royal Aurora Ballet," she told him.

"With a K&K32?"

"I also have a part-time job," she admitted.

"It must pay well," he said, having taken inventory of her outfit and the remains of her meal.

"It has its perks," she told him. "Would you like a drink?"

"Are you even old enough to drink?"

"I am in Labtierre," she laughed.

"No chaperones?"

"Of course, there are chaperones, Arthur," she said. "They are at my hotel, in Jarie, with me."

"Ah."

"You look handsome," she said. "I like what you did with your fur."

"Obviously not a very good disguise," he said.

"I would know you anywhere, Arthur," she said, warmly. "And being in Labtierre does make it easier to spot a fox."

Arthur chuckled. "Yes. This did seem like a strange location for an extraction. Why here?"

"It is where I am," she told him. "Until tomorrow, as chance would have it. We would have sent you to Briarland, last month."

"And, next month?"

"Would have been inconvenient," she said. "The company returns to Aurora for the winter."

"You really are a dancer, then?" he asked, impressed.

"I told you I would be," Kasani said. "I even showed you I could dance, remember?"

"How could I ever forget?" he said.

"You weren't meant to," she said, sadly, looking him in the eyes. "But you did forget, didn't you, Arthur?"

He looked right back. "I could _never_ forget you, Kasani," he said. "But how could I have thought about you as anything other than a child with a crush on a married mammal old enough to be her father?"

She swallowed. "And now?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he said, still looking her in the eyes. "Why are _you_ here?"

"To make sure it was you," she told him. "I know your scent." She licked her paws and placed them on the table, pads up. Her eyes were hopeful.

"Kasani…"

"Can't you take my paw, now, Arthur?" came her whisper. "I am not a child this time."

"You were there to compromise me," he accused. The vixen shook her head.

"I was there to compensate you," she corrected him.

"Compensate? What does that mean?"

"Chia has a keen sense of fair play," Kasani explained. "She is the one who introduced Candace to her 'friends' in Aurora and she didn't think it fair for you to spend your nights alone because of that. Candace was always the target, Arthur, not you."

Arthur sat back, deflated. His mind turned over, rethinking everything.

"The Wolfram Industries Defense Cooperation agreements," he said, finally. "The company gradually changed its position in Baratea's favor after I was stationed in Aurora."

Kasani nodded. "We didn't know who you really were until after you returned to Zootopia."

Arthur sighed. "How long has Chia been working for the Intelligence Ministry?" he said, admiringly. "ZIA has no clue about it."

Kasani smiled. "Chia does not work for the Intelligence Ministry, Arthur," she said. " _I_ may help them out sometimes, but I mainly 'work' for Chia—when I'm not dancing."

That threw Arthur into confusion. He tried hard to assemble this information into a clear picture.

"Arthur," Kasani said softly, offering her paws again. "Take my paws; just focus on the here and now. The past is gone; the only place for you to go is forward."

"So, what then?" he said. "Just ignore all that has happened and blindly accept you as Chia's payment to me?"

The vixen laughed softly, though not in ridicule. "Oh, Arthur," she said, looking shyly at him. "You are Chia's payment to _me_." She sighed. "She warned me you might not want this, but don't you think, even a little bit, that you could be happy with me? We know so much more about each other than most who enter a bridal contract. I know I am young and inexperienced, but could you give me the chance? To make you happy? I've waited so long for you, Arthur." Desperate tears fell from her eyes, and her paws were shaking. "Please, take my paws. Please, don't make me beg again."

He frowned. "How many years have you and Chia manipulated my life?" he said. "How can I trust you?"

"You can't," she said, tearfully. "But you can trust a contract." She carefully opened her cloak, where a rolled piece of paper could be seen. She reached with her left paw so there could be no chance of reaching for her weapon and pulled the document out, setting it before Arthur, then offered her paws again. The paper smelled strongly of Kasani. Seeing that he wasn't reaching for the document, the vixen unrolled it, then held it open with both paws it so he could read it.

 _'I, Lady Kasani, of House Rubahyangkaya, of my own free will, being of sound faculty and health, submit myself to become wife to Arthur'_

"I thought Betrothal Contracts were long, complicated things," Arthur commented.

"A standard Contract can have more than ten pages," she said, heavily. "It is necessary when there is no trust, so that both parties may know what is required by the other."

"This is blank," he noted. "And you've already scented the document."

"Yes," she said, almost silently. "I have no demands. I wish only to be your wife."

"This is insane, Kasani," he said.

"Love is not sane, Arthur," she sobbed. "I'm sorry; this was a mistake." She started to roll up the document when Arthur put his paws on hers.

"I'm not a good husband," he said. "You know that."

"What I _saw_ , is that you tried your best," she said. "That is all I hope for."

Arthur pulled out his pen and scribbled 'rest TBD' at the end of the document, brought the paper to his cheek and scented it, rolling it up, then giving it back to Kasani. Several other customers who had been watching the drama play out looked away, sensing the show was over, and the foxes had been speaking low enough not to be heard clearly by anyone else, anyway.

Kasani put the document back inside her cloak, then offered her quivering paws once more. Arthur's paws covered hers as he leaned over and kissed her.

"Now what?" Arthur asked.

"My room," she said. "We need to get your documents ready."

They left the restaurant, taking the elevator to Kasani's floor. She had grown slightly, Arthur noted, reaching almost to his eyes now, and she leaned against him, holding his paw. He breathed in deeply of her scent, picking up her arousal clearly. She saw his body respond and turned her head up for a kiss, running her free paw up his crotch to feel him. The door opened and Arthur picked her up, carrying her to her room at her whispered directions. They made it inside, where Arthur set her down and quickly stripped off his clothes, only to find her standing still, watching him with a smile.

"Wh—" he started, but she hushed him with a finger on his lips, shaking her head. He pushed back the hood of her cloak, staring at the face that had troubled his dreams so long ago, realizing it had always been there: Kasani was a much prettier version of Tonya who might even give Skye a run for the money.

She closed her eyes dreamily, standing absolutely still, shivering at his touch while he undressed her, taking his time with each item, feeling and learning every curve of her firm, dancer's body. His nose roamed all over her skin, reveling in the scent of her beautiful red fur that was creamy-white down the front from the bottom of her throat to the base of her tail. He went back up, letting his mouth sample her bosoms, listening to her soft moans, then worked his way down, down, until he at last reached her most sensitive spot. Kasani caressed his broad shoulders as he lapped away at the soft, downy fur, then her paws went to pick up her right leg, raising it up next to her head so Arthur's tongue could have free rein with all her secrets.

He relished the sweet taste of her, licking with greedy abandon until Kasani began to lose her balance to pleasure. He was at the edge, himself, so he picked her up, setting her on the pristine-white sheet covering the bed, watching her with awe as she spread her legs impossibly apart for him. He scrambled to enter her but couldn't.

"Quickly, my love," she urged him, falling over the edge, her paws reaching over impatiently to guide his malehood. He pushed hard and she yipped briefly as he finally entered her. In two quick thrusts, Arthur's knot swelled, and they clung tightly to each other as he went over the edge, nipping and biting each other, calling out their love over and over, Kasani with triumph, Arthur with something akin to fear: He had had nothing left to lose until that moment.

They lay panting, kissing and caressing in the mandatory afterglow.

"You said, you knew I was a spy," Arthur remarked, curiously.

"A spy, yes," Kasani said. "All the signs were there, but Aurora Station Chief, no. Chia didn't believe me, anyway; she just wanted Candace's influence on the negotiations."

"And you were fifteen?"

"Fourteen, when you left," she confessed, abashedly.

"You told me that was your 'sweet-sixteen' birthday!" he said. He hung his head in shame. "I can't believe I wanted to mate with a thirteen-year-old."

She raised his chin with her paw, kissing him. "But you didn't—no matter how many times I tried. And you know the statistics, my lord, that in much of the world foxes start breeding at ten," she said. "The first offers for _me_ came when I was seven."

He was unconvinced. Kasani smiled. "You thought I was eighteen when we first met, remember?" the vixen said, fondly. "Perhaps I should have kept quiet and let you believe that."

"You were a _child_ ," Arthur moaned.

"I had three kills by then, my lord," she told him seriously.

Arthur was stunned. "Three kills?"

"I was Chia's bodyguard until she moved into the Commons, my lord," Kasani informed him. "And she is still my guardian until I officially have a husband."

"That's why you never had chaperones," Arthur concluded. She nodded.

"It is unusual, but not uncommon among the High Families—you're starting to slip, my lord," she said. "Do not pull out, whatever you do."

She reached for a box sitting on the nightstand, bringing it to the bed. She opened it, carefully donning surgical gloves taken from inside, then bringing out several small zip bags and sample vials with cotton swabs attached to the inside of the caps. Two bottles had universal 'female' symbols, two had 'male' symbols.

Arthur watched in fascination as Kasani expertly collected samples from their privates and mouths. She used a permanent marker, also from inside the box, to label the bottles with their names, then rubbed Arthur's bottles against his scent glands and sealed them inside one of the zipper bags, dating and signing the bag. She did the same with her bottles, then placed both bags into another bag that she sealed, dated, and signed.

She held up the bag to a small cube sitting across the bed on the dresser.

"I am Kasani Rubahyangkaya," she said. "Registration number DRA0948716F6, with samples collected for BTC765379076-754, authorization 4684-FGE-43. Contract has been duly consummated, with one markup. At this time, Contracted, Kasani Rubahyangkaya, affirms all designated terms of the contract fulfilled, awaiting final dispensation from Contracted, reference: Arthur, immigrant, Case Number ZA5742-78. This recording becomes part of the Contract Record, for review by the Registrar of Reproductive Affairs. End recording."

"You were recording?" Arthur asked, curious. She kissed him.

"Mandatory for all Betrothal Contracts, my lord," she told him. "I'm also a licensed Sample Collector, so we could do everything in private."

"Maybe we could keep a copy," he suggested.

She smiled. "You have me, my lord," she said, nipping his ear playfully. "Am I not better than a recording?"

"Hotel won't be happy with the sheets," he said, frowning at the blood. "I can't believe you actually waited."

She kissed him. "I promised, my lord, that you would be my first," she told him, wiping them both down with the sheet. She kissed him again. "It was getting very difficult keeping that promise, though." She nipped at his tail until he got off the bed, then folded up the bedsheet, revealing a waterproof cover beneath, protecting the hotel bedcovers.

"You're keeping the sheet?" he asked, skeptically.

"Of course, my lord," she said. "It is my guarantee of motive. You did know that Baratean males cannot own property?"

"Vaguely," Arthur said.

"It means there is normally nothing a female can legally give to a male as assurance she intends to honor a Betrothal Contract except kits," she explained. "But a maiden may also offer her maiden's blood as proof."

"Doesn't that seem a little uneven?" he said. She shook her head.

"Only a maiden can become a First Wife, the Alpha of the House, my lord," she told him. "She controls the wealth, the other wives, the kits. She alone is guaranteed title in case of widowhood. There are other rights and privileges as well, my lord. To give all that up is considered above kits in significance, establishing without a doubt the female's intention to become the suitor's wife."

"Why do keep calling me 'my lord'?" he asked.

"Because you are my betrothed, my love," she told him, finishing packing the bedsheets. "You are the head of my House."

"I don't have a—"

"We need to get going," she said, interrupting him with a kiss. "We must be at the Jarie Aerodrome before midnight. The legal attaché will meet us there with the rest of the documents to issue your visa. We need to wash up; we are not in Baratea: Cows take offense to the smell of blood."

She began packing a travel case with all her things while Arthur headed to the bathroom. "My lord," she called out. "Be careful with..."

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"...the body."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **What did you think?**

 **Players are finally in position.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	29. Desserts

**Author's Note:**

 **Next installment.**

 **Probably could use a bit more editing. Hope you enjoy it.**

 **As always, comments are welcome.**

* * *

 _One hour ago_

Skye looked like she was ready to be executed as conversation came to a halt. All eyes turned to Judy, the doe's ears flopping down, with a forced smile blooming widely on her face.

"Hah, hah… Nick's really into 'All My Bunnies'," she laughed. "Turns out Claudia's mystery father is... Dr. Jack Valance. Hah, hah. Sorry." Nick was nodding frantic agreement.

"I really shouldn't take it so seriously," he laughed. "It's just a soap opera."

"Well, if anyone is up for pie and coffee, this is the time to let me know," Bonnie said, coming to the pair's rescue. Demand for dessert was unanimous, and the matriarch called out for some of the older kits to come clear the table. Others brought in several different flavors of pies along with plenty of rich coffee. Skye and Bonnie went practically head to head for the most pie eaten; not even Nick could keep up with the expecting mothers.

Eventually the pies were gone, the hour getting late with no more mishaps. Nick's mood had also mellowed with pie.

"You will be staying the night, won't you, Kiathaas?" Bonnie asked the lynx. "Storm's raging outside and it's a good one-hour drive to your castle. We have plenty of room."

"We would love to, Bonnie," the lynx said. "We don't have any pressing business tomorrow. Perhaps Trina and I could get a tour of the farm?"

"That would be swell," Stu said. "You can pick some fresh berries while you're here. The raspberries, cranberries and strawberries are all in season."

"Fantastic!" Kataiahs said. "We look forward to it."

"You live in a castle?" Jack asked, intrigued.

"How fitting," mumbled Nick with a Count Macula accent. Judy pinched him under the table.

"Yes," Kataiahs said, casually. "The Snaydler Castle, at the North end of the city, overlooking Bunnybrook Bridge."

"The Snaydler Castle?" Jack said, fascinated. "It is one of the oldest castles in Mammaldom."

"Been in the family for generations," the lynx said. "You should stop by for a visit, someday, if you enjoy walking through History. The castle is also the longest continuously-inhabited structure in the world."

"The view of the river is extraordinary," Trina added. "And incredibly romantic." The black-furred doe smoothly hopped on to Kataiahs' lap, snuggling against his chest. Elena followed her lead with Reggie. Bonnie eyed Stu with a warm smile but settled for leaning against him to the buck's relief—not that he wouldn't like having his mate on his lap; he didn't want to take any chances of her falling when she was this close to delivery.

Nick's tail wagged, the tod arching his eyebrows at his mate, then his enthusiasm suddenly died when he noticed a single tear on Cynthia's cheek. The vixen yawned, standing up slowly.

"It's been a long day," she said. "I think I will call it an evening." Jack shot up to his feet, his chair nearly tipping over in his rush to go help the vixen up.

"Why don't I walk you to your room," he said. "Just to be sure you make it alright."

She smiled. "I would like that," she said, leaning on his shoulder.

"You know your way, dear?" Bonnie asked her.

"Yes, Mom," she replied. "I can find my way with Jack's help."

"Get some rest, dear," Bonnie said. Skye nodded and left with Jack. Judy gave Nick a told-you-so smile, then kissed him and stood up on her chair with a nod to her parents.

"You all might be wondering what's the occasion for this sudden get-together," she said, noting everyone's agreement. "Jemina, Dalia, Jethro, Kevin: Your partners aren't here tonight, but this also concerns them. Mom, Dad: As our parents, this is important to you." Her siblings, Elena included, were looking at her with curiosity. Judy took a deep breath and looked at Kataiahs.

"When we took Skye to visit Dr. Reylands this afternoon, I noticed several books and papers in his office that I found intriguing, so I did a little research on Dr. Reylands' work and decided to invite him over to explain to you what I found. Mom, Dad: Other than you, all of us in this room are involved with mammals of other species." She looked around at everyone, seeing their eyes widening. "I don't know about the rest of you," she said, "but I wouldn't change that for anything. Nick completes me, and I would be lost without him." The others nodded their understanding. "My only disappointment is not being able to give kits to my mate," she said sadly. Nick took her paw, letting her know he was not disappointed in her. She smiled at him, then looked at the others.

"Dr. Reylands has found a way to fix that," she said.

* * *

 _8:01 PM_

"What have you done, Octavio?" the Ambassador asked desperately. The old Siberian tiger shook his head at the wolf. Chia, Abigail, Palila and Windbright were conversing happily with the Ambassador's wife in the main room, laughter and giggles coming from all the ladies, including the matronly Lady Chalcedon, a notorious sour-puss.

"The Emperor is already after your head," the tiger whispered. "Why do you provoke the entire Pack, now, with this idiocy? Four wives? Couldn't you even just stick to canines? What happens when they don't have kits? Have you considered that? That's Reproductive Fraud, you fool. An automatic trip to the slave block."

"I trust Chia's judgement in this, my old friend," Octavio said, confidently. "She presented a most compelling case."

"This was _that_ cub's idea?" the Ambassador muttered. "How could you go along with this? You know she is not completely... stable, Octavio."

"She is my mate, Gremwald," he said, summing it all up. "I find her quite reasonable."

"Yes," the tiger laughed. "You would. Killing Maedved only delayed your troubles, you know. Now this? The Emperor will go ballistic! Ketryn even tells me you brought the rabbit's brood into your household! You realize that puts a bunny in line for the Throne? The Pack will tear you apart!"

"Your concern truly warms my heart," Octavio said, sincerely. "But I have acted within the Law."

"You think they care about that? Please tell me you are not that great a fool."

"The Pack has always acted within the Law, Gremwald," Octavio said. "I see no reason they would stop doing so."

"Once they had _you_ to deal with all dissenters, sure," the tiger sneered. "Before that, it was just murder and terror. You don't remember, Octavio; you were a pup. They care only about one thing: Staying in power. And you threaten that with this 'household' of yours."

"I have the device," Octavio said. The Ambassador stared in disbelief.

"Where is—no; don't tell me," the tiger said. "It's best if I don't know. Don't take for granted this thing will save you, Octavio. The Emperor already feared you enough without the prestige this plan of yours could bring. Maedved was here to keep you from ever succeeding, but now that he is dead and Chia is officially next in line for the Throne, the Emperor fears for his life."

Octavio shook his head. "I have never done anything but the Emperor's bidding," he said. "I have no interest in going against him, Gremwald. Why would I need to? Time will bring its own reward soon enough."

"He only understands power, Octavio," Gremwald warned. "You have power now, so you are a threat to him now. And he is convinced Chia killed her siblings as revenge for her mother, so he wants her gone, as well."

Octavio smiled at that. "A series of unfortunate events," he said, unconvincingly. "Chia has spent almost a year and a half in the Commons, under close supervision. I don't see how she could become suspect in any such conspiracy."

"But you could," the Ambassador said, then smiled grimly at Octavio's shocked expression. "Ah. You begin to understand. That is good. You are an honorable mammal, Octavio; that is both a good thing and a bad one. Bad in that you assume others are, as well. They are not, by and wide, and, worse, can manipulate those who are. We've had this conversation before, my friend. I cannot protect you, not that you have ever really needed me to. I'm just an old cat, serving out his time in a warmer climate, not an idealistic crusader anymore."

"Perhaps I am simply naive, Gremwald, but I cannot bring myself to believe the Emperor would be so treacherous after all I have accomplished in his name. All I have ever done, I have done for the Empire," Octavio said, proudly. "I have redeemed my House in the process and have earned the paw of an Imperial Princess as a result. Why grant me all that if treachery is his goal? It makes no sense."

"Then let's hope I am wrong," Gremwald said. "But the record of today's escapades will be in Aurora come morning time, and I expect an arrest warrant for you before noon." He sighed, shaking his head. "You had better hope that device is with someone you trust, because your life is in their paws."

* * *

 _Forty-five minutes ago_

Skye led Jack through the burrow to where her room was, leaning on him for support. Her knee was much better after the injection Kataiahs had given her that afternoon, but it was still very weak. She also enjoyed leaning on Jack. She was on the second floor, a short distance from the elevator, in the adults-only section to keep her from being inundated with kits at all hours.

Jack was quiet, though Skye knew it was only because they were not in private. The droop in his ears gave away his troubled state of mind, though not what might be the cause of that trouble. She was certain Kataiahs played a key role in that. The way Jack's nose twitched told her he had missed her. Surprisingly to the vixen, though, his scent was not aroused, which had always gone paw-in-paw with the twitching nose.

Something was different, then.

She smelled a bunny on him. Not very strong, but recent; a few hours at most, which meant someone in the burrow. She fought back tears of disappointment, reviewing his dinner behavior with Trina. The doe had monopolized his attention with nothing but talk—and a basically non-existent outfit. She was unmistakably marked by Kataiahs, not that Jack would pick that up, nor would he pick up Trina's mark on the lynx. Trina was not a rival for Jack, Skye knew, but still, why couldn't he have spent a few minutes talking with someone else?

They arrived at her room. It was a guest room, with the feel of a cozy, country bed-and-breakfast. The window in the back revealed the intensity of the storm outside, though it was thick enough to keep the noise barely noticeable, something critical for the sensitive ears of a bunny. Jack helped her on to the bed, then sat on the floor, sending a twang of loneliness through the vixen.

 _'Here it comes,'_ she thought with dread. _'He's going to tell me he found someone he likes.'_

 _Damn hormones! Knock it off, vixen, and just listen to the buck._ She took a deep breath in anticipation of whatever came next. Jack sat there, legs crossed, staring at the floor.

"It's been hard," he said, "not having you here these past few days. Things have gotten so complicated, I'm not even sure I know what's going on, anymore."

She decided to bite the bullet. "Did you find someone else, Jack?"

"Yes," he said, looking up. "Matilda. I think she's perfect."

" _What?_ " Skye yipped. "Matilda? Are you serious? When did this happen? Isn't she seeing some ram, Melvin or Mark, in Plainsville?"

"Marcus," he said. "I thought that made the whole arrangement even better."

"Are you _insane_ , Jack?" she said to the rabbit, who was staring at her with his head tilted.

"Do you have a better suggestion?" he asked. "Did you want the spot?"

"The _'Spot'_?" she said, nearly shouting. "Really, Jack? This is just a _'spot'_ to you?"

"I know it is important, Cynthia," he said, a little flustered, "but why you are so vested in this?"

"Jack!" she cried. "After eight years, how can you ask me that?" She curled up on the bed, head tucked against her chest, sobbing loudly.

"Are... we... on the same... page?" he wondered. "What's wrong, Cynthia? You are being very emotional for just a different Director's position."

" _Emotional?_ " Skye shouted, then stopped herself. "What Director's position?"

"Arthur's, of course," Jack told her.

"Did you arrest him?" she asked, prompting Jack to spend the next hour relating the last couple of days. Skye filled in with her own experiences leaving out only her pregnancy.

"Doesn't exactly fit my original theory, does it?" Jack said, disappointedly, after learning about Kataiahs.

"Judy and I don't believe your theory is completely wrong, Jack. We just have to factor in this new information. We know Kataiahs is involved and is a major player in world affairs. What we don't know is exactly what Judy and Nick stumbled into, nor how Arthur fits in. We need to speak with Kataiahs; he seems to be on our side."

 _"...yoah soo good at this Reggie... ohh Reggie... raht theah... ohhh, dahlin'... ohhh maah goodness, Reggie..."_

Skye and Jack stared at the air vent.

 _"...this bunny wants to rahd her fox home, Reggie... that's it dahlin'... let yoah bunny do tha wohk, dahlin'... "_

"I thought Reggie was seeing Elena," Jack said. Skye giggled.

"That _is_ Elena," she said.

 _"...OH, REGGIE... OH, DAHLIN'... HOW'S MAH RAHDIN?... YOAH BUNNY DOIN' IT FOA YAH?... READY TO COME HOME, DAHLIN'?... THAT'S IT, BEBY!... OHHHH, REGGIE... SWEET CARROTS, REGGIE, THIS IS BETTA THAN THA FUHST TAHM!... AHHM HOME, BEBY... AHHMM...MMMMNNNG...NNNNNMMMM...HHHHHMMM... mmmmmnnn... ohh, Reggie... ohhh... oohhh... darn, that stupid vennnttt... mmmnn..."_

Skye looked at Jack. His ears were straight up, nose twitching furiously, and he was certainly aroused now. She wanted him, too, but there was something else she needed more.

"What am I to you, Jack?" she asked, surprising the buck with the question.

"What do you mean, Cynthia?"

"Am I just a warm tail? A safe way to scratch an itch?"

"Why would you ever think such a thing, Cynthia?" Jack asked, a trace of hurt in his voice.

"I spent the last few days running for my life, Jack," she said. "All I kept thinking about is how much I missed you, how none of it would have been difficult at all if only you were there, with me. I had to face Death alone, and the only regret I had was not saying goodbye to you that morning."

"I don't—"

"I love you, Jack. With all my heart," she sniffled. "But now, being here, in this burrow, I understand if you don't want to be with me. I can deal with you wanting a young bunny to start your own hill instead of a well-used vixen. Just tell me what you want."

Jack stared at her. She could tell he wanted to say something, then he stood up, coming over to sit down nervously next to her, and sighed.

"In my life there's been heartache and pain, Cynthia," he said. "I don't know if I can face it again."

He took a deep breath, lowering his head. "But I can't stop now," he said with determination. "I've traveled so far to change this lonely life." He turned, misty eyed, and looked her in the eye.

"I want to _know_ what love is, Cynthia," he told her, defiantly. "I _want_ you to show me." He put his paws to his chest, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"I want to _feel_ what love is, Cynthia," he cried, hopeful eyes beaming at the vixen. "I _know_ you can show me."

Ever so gracefully, Skye sat up on her haunches facing Jack, with her front paws resting primly before the rabbit. Her tail wrapped around her as she gazed down smiling at the buck staring up at her with his big blue orbs glistening in the light, ears half-drooping in expectation.

"Jack Savage," she said sweetly, then glared. "Are you quoting a song to me?" she snarled, baring her fangs.

Jack's ears dropped down his back and his suddenly-dry eyes narrowed as he frowned, looking at his paws.

"Blast it, Cynthia," he grumbled. "What am I supposed to say to something like that?"

"How about, 'Oh, 'sorry, Cynthia, but I just don't feel the same way about you,'?" she said. "Or, 'I love bumping tails with you, Cyn, but you're just not wife material.'"

"Do I really sound like that?" he said.

" _Ugghhg!_ " she screamed. "Get out!"

"Come on, Cynthia," Jack said, softly. "You know how I feel about you."

"No, Jack," she said. "I don't. I was lying in a ditch with my head stuck in a sewer pipe for hours, just waiting to die. Then, when I finally came out, it was Judy and Nicky who rescued me, Jack; not you—no. Don't interrupt. I understand why you weren't there; I can't fault you for that. But, if you _had_ been there, I wouldn't be asking these questions." Jack was staring at his paws, so Skye decided to borrow a line from Judy's playbook.

"You get one chance, Jack," she said with finality. "But you have to say it."

He looked up at her, mask off. "I'm scared, Cynthia," he said. "You know..."

"Yes, Jack," she said, softly. "I do. You aren't the only one with baggage; I'm terrified right now. I've bared my soul to you, and I don't even know what answer I want to hear, so just tell me the truth, Jack. We can work the rest out later."

"What if—"

"Jaaaaack..."

"I guess—"

"Don't guess. Tell me the truth, Jack."

He sighed. "I love you, Cynthia," he whispered, cringing. "Was that the answer you were hoping for?"

" _Are you willing to change it?_ " she demanded, almost hysterically.

"No, actually," he said, defiantly. "I'm not."

She pushed him off the bed, stripped off her clothes, then got under the covers, shivering. Jack stood there, watching her silently. "It's nice and warm in here," she said.

"You always said that…"

"…Only my mate gets under the covers with me," she finished, softly. "Are you coming in, or not?" Jack nearly ripped his clothes taking them off in his haste to jump in the bed. She didn't turn away from him as she usually did, either, but lay on her back, pulling him on top of her.

"I've always wanted to watch my mate making love to me," she whispered to his wondering expression. His face only came up to her chest.

"I could get used to this," he purred, putting his mouth to work on her firm bosoms. She cried out as he entered her, and their hips rocked together with the sure rhythm of long-time lovers, their eyes staring into each other's. Her tail wrapped around his and her paws gripped his buttocks, pulling him tightly against her as they quickly tumbled over into pleasure.

Elena now had competition for the air vents.

"Be still, Jack," Skye murmured afterwards, running her paws over his back and hindquarters. She nuzzled his head.

"That was disappointingly quick," Jack said, snuggling into her bosoms. Her legs wrapped around him, trapping him against her.

" _My bunny_ ," she said, sighing contentedly. Jack began moving again, slower this time, making the vixen moan.

"Might as well go for quantity," he mumbled, nuzzling her bosoms. "I have ever told you how nice these are?"

"Many times," she panted. "Have I ever told you how handsome you are?"

"No," he remarked. "I don't believe so."

"Good. I don't want your head to get any bigger," she moaned, rubbing his back. "I need to tell you something, Jack."

"I'm all ears," he murmured. She nipped playfully at tips of those ears.

"I want kits," she said, rocking her hips.

"We'll get them," he promised her. "Somehow."

"Are you ready to be a father, Jack?" she panted, nuzzling his head.

"I'm ready for anything when you're with me, Cynthia," he said. "I only wish I could give them to you, myself."

"Oh, Jack," she said, falling off the cliff, howling. Jack quickened his pace to join her.

 _"Ten-out-of-ten!"_ came a voice through the vent.

"Want to go three-for-three?" Jack murmured. She nipped his ears again.

"That is very disturbing, Cynthia," he said. "It actually feels good."

Skye turned on her side so they could lay facing each other, and they spent several minutes kissing.

"Jack," she finally said. "Did you really mean what you said about giving me kits?"

"Every last word of it," he said. "I think you'll be a wonderful mother. We just have to figure out how to get the kits."

"I'm pregnant," she said, smiling.

Jack returned her smile. "That's wonderful!" he said. "Solves one big problem, right off the bat. Who's the father?"

"You are," she said, proudly. He laughed.

"Seriously, Cynthia," he said. "Do you know?"

She growled menacingly, showing plenty of teeth.

"That's impo... ssi... ' _Dr. Reylands_ '? _That_ Dr. Reylands is the 'nice, older feline, gynecologist' you have been going to for the last five years?"

She nodded. "They have your ears," she said, shyly. "I have pictures, if you want to see."

"Most certainly! Get them," he said, enthusiastically. Skye reached under the pillow and pulled out the sonograms, showing them to Jack while explaining what he was seeing.

"We have kits..." he said. "You and I... we have kits." She nodded. "I'm going to be a father..."

"I'M GOING TO BE A FATHER!" Jack shouted.

Cheers and applause came through the vent.

* * *

 _9:05 PM_

Arthur stood looking at the dead fox covered in ice in the bathtub. It was a red fox, male, about the same size as himself, excellent physical condition, and much younger.

"He was your original contact," Kasani said, coming up behind him and hugging him. "There was a... conflict of interest."

"You mean, Octavio double-crossed me," he said.

"No, my lord," she said. "Octavio is the one who has been double-crossed. This agent was sent to kill you and dispose of the device you bring."

"That's crazy," Arthur said. "The device is a game-changer. Why throw it away?"

"Because it is the culmination of Octavio's work, my lord," she explained, taking a washcloth from the rack and scrubbing Arthur down. "This was a top-priority project for the Intelligence Ministry. Two year's budget and resources were used for this task at Octavio's insistence and personal guidance. If he succeeds in obtaining the device, he will secure the Intelligence Ministry and, if it is really as important as you say, he will likely become Prime Minister in Lord Maedved's place."

"Why bother? Octavio just needs to wait," he said. "Once Chia sits on the throne, Octavio becomes Emperor; he doesn't need anything else."

"No, my lord," Kasani said, rinsing him off. "The Emperor only wields the power he personally gathers himself. He may have the authority to suggest, approve or deny the actions of the various Ministries, but he does not rule by decree. The High Families prohibit that. The Emperor must rely on influence and alliances to move any agenda forward. Nor he is above the Law, though it may seem like it at times. He can be challenged, just like any other Baratean citizen, though he has the right to designate a champion."

"I'd forgotten how overly complicated Baratean politics are," he said, mesmerized by Kasani washing herself. She truly was lovely.

"They are actually quite simple, my lord," she said, scrubbing. "The Emperor is a male that married into the Royal family, so he may only _act_ as the head of the Royal family. The Empress holds the true power, my lord, but cannot exercise it herself, only veto her husband. A Minister, on the other paw, has full authority over his Ministry. If Octavio becomes Intelligence Minister _and_ Prime Minister, he effectively becomes the most powerful mammal in the Empire. All before Chia even comes near the Throne; after that, Octavio would be Intelligence Minister, Prime Minister, and Emperor."

Arthur whistled, understanding.

"So, my lord," she told him, "the Emperor and the Pack are afraid of him. If his project fails, or they can convict him of a capital crime, he can be eliminated as a threat and Chia will have to choose another mate, if she has enough time, or face the slave block. Either way, the Emperor ensures his power and, perhaps, a more agreeable heir." She walked up to him and gave him a kiss, stroking his aroused malehood.

"I am delighted my lord finds me so appealing," she said, coyly. "But we must move quickly if we are to get to the Aerodrome in time."

"So," he ventured, staring at the dead body. "He was supposed to kill me?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Maybe he should succeed," he said.

* * *

 _9:10 PM_

"Are you mad at me?" Judy asked her mate back in their room. They had sat through Kataiahs' lecture with the others on how it was possible for inter-species couples to have kits. While the lynx told them that no clinical trials had been approved, Judy and Nick, at least, knew the procedure was successful. The lynx had explained how he wanted Judy and Nick to help with publicity to get the trials approved and encourage other mixed-species couples to join the effort. Removing much of the stigma from mixed-species relationships would be possible once having kits became a reality.

Kataiahs had then given an overview as to why horrible defects would not result from these unions, though it was unlikely anyone but himself really understood it. Judy had a feeling he could explain it much simpler, and she intended to hear that version soon.

Nick shook his head. "Not really, Fluff," he said. "I just wish you had let me in on this sooner. It's a lot to take in." He held out his arms and Judy came in for a hug. "I still want to know why he shot me," he added.

"Well," she said, "you'll get to ask him, yourself. He wants a private meeting with us, Jack, and Skye later tonight, when things quiet down."

"How much later?" he asked, nuzzling her ears.

"You have a one-track mind, Slick," she said.

"Easier to stay on course," he told her, nibbling her ears. "Plus, you owe me."

"Yeah," she admitted. "You did get short-changed today." She went and leaned across the bed, wiggling her tail. "Can you ever forgive me?" she said, looking over her shoulder.

Nick went to collect his reward. "As many times as I can," he said.

* * *

 _9:30 PM_

Octavio's phone rang in secure mode. He looked at the number and frowned.

"If you'll excuse me," he said to the Ambassador and his wife. "I must answer this." He stepped into the Ambassador's office and closed the door.

"I wasn't expecting to hear from you, Arthur," he said into the device.

 _"My lord Belyiklyk,"_ came an unexpected voice. _"It is Kasani. You are betrayed."_

"What are you doing there, Kasani?"

 _"Lady Chia advised me that my lord Arthur was being extracted tonight."_

"'My lord Arthur'? What have you done, you silly pup?" Octavio chided.

 _"I have claimed my life's prize, my lord,"_ she said defiantly. _"If I had not, he would be dead, and his parcel destroyed. Those were Kendon's orders; I kept the message file for you."_

"What have you done, you silly pup?" he repeated, softly. "If I am betrayed, you have bedded yourself into mortal danger." He sighed. "What is done is done. You should not trust any Ministry contacts; those whom you could trust will be watched."

 _"I have alternate plans, my lord,"_ she said. _"This has been my obsession for a long time."_

Octavio smiled at that, recalling how much the vixen had always talked about Arthur. "Do you have enough resources available?" he asked.

 _"My lord Arthur does,"_ she said. _"He is traveling under a pristine sleeper identity. We also have plenty of cash, his car, and the charger for this secure phone."_

"It will have to do," he told her. "Arthur is exceptionally good, but he does not know our ways, so you will have to guide him. I wish there was something of help I could offer you, Kasani; we will all have to trust Chia's judgment in this, now. You and Chia have your own means of communicating. Those might be safer to use; I will set this phone for a dead-mammal text. Whatever plans you and Chia have made, follow them, and may good fortune smile upon you; if we survive, you and Arthur will always be welcome with us. Be safe, little one. Should I tell Chia she is not your guardian, anymore?"

 _"Please do, my lord,"_ Kasani said, happily. _"You sound different, my lord, if I may be so bold."_

"It is Love, Kasani," he said, a little frustrated. "Chia tells me you are acquainted with it."

 _"Yes, my lord,"_ she said. _"It makes us reach for the impossible, does it not?"_

"Yes. It does, indeed," he said. "My congratulations to you both, Kasani. Good luck."

 _"Good luck to you, my lord."_ The phone went dead.

 _So be it._

He went back into the main room, resuming his seat next to the Ambassador. All that was needed for the astute feline was a slight nod from Octavio.

"I hope nothing too grim, my lord?" Chia asked, picking up on Octavio's mood.

"Nothing entirely unexpected, beloved," Octavio said. "I may have some business in the capital; how would you like to visit Aurora for our honeymoon?"

Chia's face turned cold. "Yes," she said, sounding to the others like a stalking predator. "We really should introduce our House to my father."

"When should we leave?" Palila asked. "It will soon be too late for sister Abigail to travel."

"Morning travel is best," the Ambassador said, looking at Octavio.

"Oh, all of you," Lady Chalcedon said, annoyed. "Who do you think I am?" She stared at Octavio. "They're coming after you, Octavio, aren't they?"

"I believe so, Chamelia," Octavio said, smiling. "I was never able to fool you."

"You have an honest face," she told him, "just like your father's. It doesn't like deceiving. You won't do anything more foolish than you already have, will you, dear pup? You have this wonderful family to take care of now."

"They are always in my thoughts, Chamelia," he said. "I will do what I must to protect them."

"Just keep that temper of yours in check, Octavio," she warned. "It is a weak point in your character, though your wives seem to be keeping you steady."

"Yes, Chamelia," he said.

The tigress looked at his wives. "I don't like change," she growled, "but I see it coming with the four of you."

"How you all have managed to attach yourselves to Octavio is between you and him," she said, looking each in the eyes. "But you are all High Ladies, and you know how this goes: The Pack is not forgiving; if this is some stunt, you have all destroyed your families for nothing. I have known you or your families for years, and I would hate to see disaster strike you. We can still call this off before the records are transmitted."

She looked at Abigail. "Of all your insane ideas, Abigail," she said. "You were free! Why are you here? Think of your kits."

"I am, Chamelia," she said, rubbing her belly. "Eight of them are as tall as I am; two are taller. What future do they have? Life as a freak, like their mother? My husband—and I now treasure that word—has shown me a different Baratea; one that I can be a part of. Where I am appreciated. So, if it comes down to dying with him, or alone in a tower on my estate, I choose him. I have already wasted too many years alone. I feel alive, Chamelia, and if I die because of this, then simply think of me as a shooting star in the night sky. I am not afraid anymore."

The tigress shook her head, then looked at Palila. "At least you I understand, Palila," she said. "I would have done the same under your circumstances." She looked at Windbright. "And you!" she said. "Could you simply have not gone back and accepted discipline? Your father is not so unreasonable that he would ruin your future for a simple indiscretion. He would likely just arrange a _suitable_ husband for you."

Windbright laughed. "My lady," she said. " _My_ husband bested me in paw-to-paw combat while he was blinded. How could I ever give myself to anyone lesser again? I will stand by him, or die with him, my lady; there is no one else I would have by my side."

"Chamelia," Chia said warmly. "You have been a good friend to me in this desolate place. I have brought together a House like no other the Empire has ever seen; my lord Belyiklyk will be an Emperor to remember. With friends like you and Lord Chalcedon, I know we cannot fail."

"To do _what_ , Chia?" Chamelia asked. "This bad blood between you and your father will be the death of you. Just end this madness now and bide your time like a proper heir."

"There _is_ no time," Chia said, direly. "The Empire stands at the brink of a war it cannot win and my husband has obtained the means to avert this conflict if only my father can swallow his pride long enough for it to be delivered. I will not allow my father's unbridled hunger for power destroy the Empire we love. _That_ would be madness, Chamelia."

"And just what do you think you can do, pup?" Chamelia demanded. "Walk in to the palace and dictate to your father how to run the Empire?"

"I can walk in to the palace and deliver Octavio's package to the House of Lords," Chia laughed. "Then, _they_ will tell father how to run the Empire." She giggled. "Or I could just set it off and start ruling with a clean slate." She clapped her paws giddily. "Oh, the possibilities are _endless_!"

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **There you have it.**

 **Kinda makes you wonder how it all ties together, I hope. Kataiahs is about to explain it to them.**

 **(Hope you liked the song reference.)**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	30. Origins - A Daughter's Tale

**Author's Note:**

 **This is too long for one chapter, so I will make two.**

 **I do hope you enjoy this.**

 **As always, comments are welcome!**

* * *

 _9:35 PM_

Trina lay quietly in Kataiahs' arms, waiting for the lynx to say something first. She had sat quietly with the rest of the group, listening to him change the Facts of Mammaldom while hiding her surprise, a skill she had learned early in her Palace life at home. Her entire world had been turned over yet again in the three years she had spent in Zootopia.

It was becoming a more frequent phenomenon.

 _Her lynx_ began to purr loudly, nuzzling her ears and head entreatingly. She giggled.

"I forgive you, sir," she said, giving in. "When were you going to tell me?"

"After I knew it worked, I think," he told her.

"You _think_ , sir?"

"I wasn't planning on _us_ ," he said. "Now that you know, how do you feel?"

"I want to be your mate, sir," she said decisively.

"That is what I was afraid of," he told her. "You know you need to go back, Trina."

"I have other sisters and cousins," she said. "They can do the job just as well."

"That is not my decision to make, Trina."

"It _is_ your decision to approve me or not, sir," she reminded him.

"So, I should put my desires above the needs of the many?" he asked, softly. "Isn't that why the First Matriarch assumed power to begin with?"

"I wouldn't know, sir; I wasn't there," she answered. "You were."

"Touché," he said.

"Don't you _want_ to be happy, sir?" she asked.

"It never lasts, my dear," he told her, resigned. "A thousand years from now you'll only be another bittersweet memory to a lonely old cat."

"I am that already, sir," she said, turning around to kiss him. "So why not let me try to take the bitter part away?" Her paws drew his head to her bosoms, letting her body plead her case for her.

Finally surrendering to his bunny's needs, Kataiahs became troubled. The last time he had indulged in such fantasies resulted in the Sixty Years War.

 _Bollocks! Not again!_

* * *

 _9:36 PM_

Judy smiled contentedly, enjoying Nick's adoring kisses and nuzzles along her back, head and ears. Now that the heat of her passion was fading, she was more than a bit uncomfortable, but not so much that she wanted to interrupt her mate's near worship of her. He caressed her tail one last time then rolled off next to her onto the bed, starting another session of kisses and nuzzles.

"That's not how you make kits," he teased her, nibbling her ear.

"It's how I show my mate how much I appreciate his support," she told him, rubbing against him. He whined with pleasure, whispering all sorts of promises she knew he would do his best to carry out.

" _My fox_ ," she purred.

" _Your fox_ ," he confirmed, shuddering. They held each other tightly, panting and kissing.

"Did _my fox_ enjoy himself?" she whispered after a while. He groaned.

"Who's _your bunny?_ " she purred. He marked her head and shoulders thoroughly.

"Is _my fox_ going to listen to _his bunny_ always?" she purred.

"Now, you're pushing it," he whispered.

"Thought I'd try to sneak that in," she said.

"Devious bunny."

"Messy fox."

"What happened at the end's on you," he said, smiling at his cleverness. "I was just fine making out, but, nooo. _Someone_ had to get all _possessive_."

"Har, har. Just get a towel," she said.

"Yes, Mistress," he said, bowing and scampering to their room's private bathroom. Judy laughed, daring to imagine what it would be like having his kits. That was no longer a subject to be dreaded, an instant road to heartbreak. It was something she could look forward to: She could be a mother now.

She had always thought it would be the right time to have kits after she became a Detective. At ZPD, they got better benefits than beat cops and were not exposed to as much danger, though the hours could be longer. She would have to put some serious think time into it now that it was no longer a fantasy. She knew she could count on Nick to support whatever decision she made, though she was going to make sure they made it together.

Nick returned with a towel, cleaned her up, then carried her to the warm shower he had started. They got in together, scrubbed each other, not entirely platonically, then enjoyed the warm water for a while before drying off in the fur drier and getting dressed to head over to Skye's room.

It was time.

* * *

 _10:30 PM_

Skye and Jack were ready, holding paws, and joined Nick and Judy in the hallway. Judy led the group to one of the smaller dens in the center of the burrow used for close gatherings, with nothing inside but two over-stuffed lounge chairs, a large sofa, and a coffee table between them.

Kataiahs sat comfortably in one of the chairs across the coffee table, his legs crossed, paws steepled on his lap. Trina sat prettily in the chair next to him, holding a tray with a hinged silver box on it. A pitcher of water sat on the table, along with four glasses.

Judy and Nick went around one side of the sofa, Jack and Skye the other, sitting down quietly.

"Thank you for meeting with me at this late hour," Kataiahs said, smiling at them. "I am certain you have questions, and I shall endeavor to answer them as best I can."

Nick raised his paw.

"We are not in first grade, Mr. WildeHopps. Simply ask your question. But, to answer you: Because you deserved it; you knew better than to pursue me alone on foot. Afterwards, you should have been trying to defuse the situation instead of mouthing off to an unknown mammal holding a gun to your head. But your latest police reports show you have gained a modicum of caution since then, so: You are welcome."

Nick's mouth clicked shut. The lynx turned to Skye.

"I am so truly sorry for my gross invasion of your privacy, Miss Skye," he told her, sincerely. "But I needed to give you absolute proof to have any chance of gaining your cooperation—and you have wanted Mr. Savage's kits for a long time now, as anyone of your friends will tell you."

"Mr. Savage," he said to Jack. "I have been around for a very, very long time, as you have undoubtedly realized by now. How long, is something we might discuss soon."

"And, no, Mrs. WildeHopps," he said to Judy. "I cannot read minds; I have simply judged the probability of your questions based on my study of you and my extensive life experience."

"Darn good guesses, Whiskers," Nick said. "What other tricks can you do?"

Kataiahs stood behind Nick, leaning over the couch. "I can move faster than most," he whispered into the tod's ear. "I am sure your wife mentioned that," he said, back in his chair with his legs crossed again. Nick swallowed.

"Told you," Judy said, then to Kataiahs. "You have our attention, Kataiahs. Why are we here?"

"Right to the point," he said with a humorless smile, leaning forward. "You are here because you know too much about me, and I need to decide what to do about it."

"You're going to kill us?" Jack said. "That seems unlikely."

"It should not come to that," the lynx said. "If I had thought that necessary, I would have done so long ago. Trina, if you would, please."

Trina set her tray on the coffee table, opened the lid of the box, and brought out eight capsules, four green and four red, setting one of each before the other four mammals. She filled the glasses with water, then sat down again.

"I've seen this movie," Nick said, wryly. "You're trying to tell us we're living in a computer simulation?"

"Goodness, no," Kataiahs said. "This world is as real as it gets, Mr. WildeHopps. I will say the Dublowski brothers revealed more than I wanted, but they did accomplish their goal while turning a tidy profit for themselves. And making a most entertaining film, certainly."

"Their goal?" Skye asked.

"All in due time, Miss Skye," Kataiahs said. "Or would you prefer I call you, Mrs. Savage?" The mammals on the couch stared at him in surprise. Trina giggled.

"Air vents," she told them. Skye blushed a deep scarlet, then wrapped her tail possessively around Jack.

"I would like that, thank you," she said. Jack took her paw in his, grinning widely.

"Spectacular!" Kataiahs said, clapping his paws. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Savage."

"Do we throw a party next?" Nick said, sarcastically.

"You make a choice next, Mr. WildeHopps," the lynx told him, gesturing to the green pill. "The green pill, and you forget the last week—it's the best I can offer; raw memory erasure is not an exact science." He gestured to the other pill. "Take the red one, and all your questions get answered."

"You'd expect green for 'keep going'," Nick said.

"Green is for 'safe,' Mr. WildeHopps," Kataiahs said. "You go back to your life and never see me again; you wake up with a very public case of amnesia and an anonymous benefactor will take care of your losses. Your involvement in these matters comes to an end."

The tod picked up the red pill and swallowed it. "You know I have to find out what this is all about," he told Judy. She nodded and took her red pill, too.

"Where you go, I go," she said. " _You_ know I don't quit."

"You were always so impulsive, Nicky," Skye said.

"Hey! Who almost got shaved by a panther?" countered Nick.

"What are the dangers of the red pill?" Jack asked. "I'm going to be a father, you know."

"Once they know the truth, Mr. Savage, most mammals feel compelled to help," Kataiahs said. "That is not always, shall we say, in their best interests."

"And those who don't help?" Skye pressed.

"As long as they do not interfere with me, I let them live," the lynx replied severely. "Have no doubt, all of you: I will not hesitate to kill anyone who is a threat. Time to choose, Mr. Savage."

Jack and Skye looked at each other. Skye shrugged, then picked up the red pill. Jack smiled at her, doing the same. They swallowed the pills together.

"Excellent!" Kataiahs said. He looked at Trina. "How far do you want to go, my dear?" The doe reached into the silver box and took a red pill.

"I told you, sir: I am with you all the way," she said, swallowing the capsule.

"What did we all just swallow?" asked Nick.

"A Cortical Interface Mapping Adapter and a Cerebral Image Capture Unit," the lynx said.

"I've always wanted one of those," Nick said to Judy. Her ear smacked him behind the head.

"Pay attention," she said, then to Kataiahs. "I assume you are going to explain what that means."

"The CICU takes a snapshot of the contents of your brain and records it for later retrieval, should it become necessary," Kataiahs told them. "The CIMA maps your brain functions to a standard interface format."

He pulled what looked like a tv remote from his pocket. "This is going to feel strange," he said, pressing a button. They all felt as if they had tripped, their arms flailing around for support. When they settled down, their eyes were wide open in surprise.

"That was the CICU recording your brain contents," he told them. "Now, sit back against the cushions and take a deep breath. This next part will be… unpleasant." They did what he asked, then Kataiahs pushed another button. They twitched for a few moments as if tazed, then passed out.

"Time for the main presentation," Kataiahs told his unconscious audience.

* * *

 *** * * * * NOTICE * * * * ***

The following memorygram has been classified:

 **SECRET - NOT FOR GENERAL DISTRIBUTION.**

Viewing by personnel **LEVEL 6** and below is **UNAUTHORIZED**.

Enter Authorization Code now:

xxxxxx SECURITY BYPASS ENABLED

 *** * * * * WARNING * * * * ***

The following contents have been rated:

 **TOXIC - LEVEL 2.**

 _Severe emotional distress, violence, pain and anxiety._

Viewing may lead to loss of sleep, depression, nightmares, anxiety and seizures. Personnel with cardiac conditions, epilepsy, or clinical depression **strongly advised** **to avoid contents**.

Location: _Omaha Central Metropolis_

Coordinates: _41.224703N 95.928701W_

Timestamp: _23 October 2231_

* * *

 _Alarms blaring through the plasteel hallways, emergency strobe lights flashing madly all around, pressure doors dropping to isolate side corridors._

Breathing heavily, Zia ran past a contingent of Marines going the other way, not even bothering to see who might be among them, though she hoped her brother was not. Her lungs felt on fire. The turbolifts were disabled during emergencies, so she'd run up the ten levels from the labs non-stop after the alarms went off.

The Control Room's massive blast-isolation door began closing and she redoubled her efforts to make it through in time. Wouldn't do to have the Garrison Commander locked out of her own post; her father would never let her hear the end of it.

She squeezed through the opening just before it slammed shut, her ears popping as the compressors fought to build up positive air pressure inside the room. While no one expected another biochem attack, the defense protocols were set to protect against such overconfidence and miscalculation. Floating above the ops table, the main battle display showed the various probability zones were the incursion was expected. The first thing Zia noticed were the number of anticipated incursions.

"What do you mean, three?" she shouted to the near-panicked staff. "Did anyone bother running a diagnostic? Shut that damn noise off!"

"In progress, ma'am!" Corporal Reynolds reported. "...All systems nominal."

"Ascension status!" Zia called out to the Flight Controller.

" _Dawn's Hope_ nearly out of the gravity well!" Commander Wilemeer informed her. "Main engine ignition in ten minutes, forty-five seconds!"

"They don't have ten minutes if those are poppers, Rob!" she yelled, heading over to Comms. "Get Dad on the line!"

The room shook, nearly sending Zia to the floor. "Probability Zone Alpha coalescing to imminent break!" the Tactical Officer reported. "Class... S-seven, ma'am! Range, eighty miles!"

"Seven?" Zia said, more in denial than anything else. _Pull yourself together, girl._ "Where's my father?"

"Admiral Blake on line!" the Comm officer said.

"On viewer!" Zia called out. The room shook again. Zia braced herself with her hands on the ops table. The alarm siren turned off, leaving her ears ringing.

"Probability Zone Beta coalescing to imminent break, Class Seven, ma'am! Range, ninety miles!"

"Talk to me, Zia," her father said, his hologram showing him sitting nervously on the command deck of the orbiting Flagship, FSS _New Haven_.

"Three contacts," she said, trying to remain calm. "Two—"

This time Zia went tumbling to the floor as the room heaved in one massive jolt.

"Probability Zone Gamma coalescing to imminent break, Class Seven. Range… SIX MILES!" Tactical called out.

"Plasma cannons on target, NOW!" Zia screamed. "Shields UP! Spin up the rail gun! Integrity Matrix to maximum! Reactor to overdrive! All units, fire on sight!" Blood flowed from somewhere on her head into her eyes. She wiped it off with her sleeves, getting back on her feet to face her father, spraying her head liberally with aerosol bandage dispenser Corporal Reynolds tossed her.

"Get _Dawn's Hope_ out of there, now, Dad! She has no weapons and minimal shielding. We have three Class Sevens converging on us, and you heard, that last one is only six miles out."

"Evacuate, Zia," her father urged. "Get out of there. We can cover you from orbit."

Zia smiled sadly. "We're hours away from being ready to leave, Dad," she said. "The complex is locked down. That alone is going to take an hour to—"

The room shook again, sending Zia to her knees. "CONTACT GAMMA—BREAKOUT—CLASS SEVEN—SIX-POINT-FOUR MILES SOUTHEAST—QUADRANT TWO—ALL WEAPONS FIRING!" came the report from the Tactical Officer.

"Visual!" Zia ordered, prompting a visual of the battle zone to appear on the display. Where once the world's largest sports complex had stood, a glowing, flowing mass of radioactive magma, over a half-mile in diameter, rose from the ground, tossing aside everything around it. Weapons fire converged on the mass, from solid projectiles, to focused energy beams, to plasma-yield warheads. Higher and higher, the fiery pillar rose, losing some of its brightness with each hit, but not enough to stop it.

Two miles away from the pillar, a second emerged, followed by another one, another, and another, forming five points in a star nearly three miles wide. The ground was in constant upheaval, and soon, from the center of the star, a fiery pentagon a mile-and-a-half in diameter pulled itself out of the ground on the five pillars, which joined at each side of the central mass, like a starfish from a bad nightmare throwing massive chunks of debris all around. The nearest leg of the behemoth wobbled.

"Yes!" Zia shouted. "Keep hitting it there! It's losing containment!" It had breached too close to their main position, allowing the defenders to bring their capital weapons to bear point-blank on it when it was weakest. They were going to bring it down!

The Control Room personnel began cheering as the glow in weakened leg went out. A crack formed in the middle, then widened down to the ground, suddenly splitting open at the impact from another hit of the 200-inch rail gun. Magma burbled out of the break, flowing down the leg and back into the crater from where it had risen. The main body sank into the earth, dragging its legs after it.

"Excellent work, Zia!" her father said, bringing her back to reality. Something was wrong.

"It should not have come out where it did," she said to her father. "Tactical, triangulate the epicenter of the breakouts."

"The old launch facility, ma'am!" came the reply.

"The old—" Zia went tumbling to the ground again. "Why isn't there a damn chair for the Commander?" she yelled, rubbing her head.

"Commander! New contact! Probability Zone Delta coalescing to imminent break, Class—something's broken, ma'am! Reynolds! Diagnostics, NOW!"

"What do you mean, broken?" Zia shouted.

The Tac Officer looked desperately at Reynolds, who shook his head ruefully. "Class Nine, Zia," the Tactical Officer told the Commander. "Two hundred miles out." The Command Center went quiet.

"How long?" Zia asked.

"Twenty minutes. Thirty, tops," was the answer. The room shook again. "Contact Beta! Breakout! Class Seven! Eight-nine-point-four miles! Sector 3, Quadrant 2! Contact Alpha! Breakout! Class Seven! Eight-two-point-two miles! Sector 5, Quadrant 1."

"Satellite view!" Zia ordered. They were out of capital weapons range—except for the rail gun, though it would lose almost a third of its energy over that distance. The energy weapons would dissipate into the atmosphere at over thirty miles. "How much ammo for the rail gun?"

"Three thousand rounds, give or take," came the response from Tactical.

"Miles always did want to see how much he could overdrive the rails," Zia said. "Fire at will!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

It was only a matter of seconds before the behemoths rose up enough from the ground to allow the rail gun to hit them. Streaks followed by impact flashes reached out for the giants.

"Zoom in on Sector 3," said Zia. The display narrowed to where only a single star was visible, then expanded until it filled the view. "What _is_ that thing?" This one had _six_ legs, one wider and flatter than the other five. It wasn't being used to walk on. "Concentrate on that one. I don't like the looks of it."

" _Dawn's Hope_ main engine ignition in one minute," came from Flight Control. Time slowed. On the display, the behemoth's flat leg reached up to the sky, curling back, then gracefully straightened, a bright flash escaping from the tip. Following the flash, a bright ball of plasma came spewing out, climbing upwards and out of their field of view. "It's gone…" Wilemeer said a few seconds later. " _Dawn's Hope_ is gone!"

"WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED!" came her father's panicked voice.

"You saw the same thing we did," Zia said coldly. "Tactical! Hit that arm! Now!" The arm had lowered after firing, losing some of its glow. Hits from the rail gun had effect, producing duller spots where it hit. One of the other of the enormous arms put itself in front, taking the hits now while the cannon arm regained its fiery glow.

"Dad!" Zia shouted, watching the gigantic cannon folding back again. "Get the Fleet out of here!" They watched as the behemoth fired again.

" _Glasgow_ 's been hit!" said Flight Control. "Shields down to five percent!"

"Ma'am!" cried Comms. "Luna Station coming over the horizon! They request permission to engage!"

"Nail the bastard!" Zia shouted. Luna Station was an asteroid defense base established on the Moon in the 2100's after a near-earth collision by a rogue comet. Its coherent energy weapon could vaporize megaton-sized objects. How well it would penetrate the Earth's atmosphere had never been considered, especially at a shallow angle. Then again, they had never seen a Class Seven behemoth before. First time for everything, Zia thought. She didn't care to dwell on the Class Nine; it would be a hundred times more massive.

But she had to know where it was. "How long for the Class Nine?" she called out.

"Estimate thirty minutes," Tactical informed her. "It slowed down."

"Luna Station commencing bombardment," Comms reported. On the display, a massive beam of light descended on the behemoth, though it didn't reach all the way.

"Kinetic shields!" Tactical called out. The behemoth flickered under the beam but recovered quickly after it dissipated. They watched as it shifted position to face the Moon and fired its weapon.

"Luna Station reports incoming projectile, estimated impact in five hours," Comms reported. "They estimate they can take four hits. They will keep firing while they can."

"Can Luna Station take it out?" Zia asked.

"Based on my calculations, no, Commander," came the answer from Tactical.

"Dad, get out of here," she repeated to her father. "If Luna Station can't take it out, you certainly can't. That thing will pick off the entire Fleet if you don't get moving."

"I've already ordered the Arks ahead," he informed her. "We can catch up before they pass Lunar orbit. Evacuate, Zia."

"Ma'am?" Tactical spoke out. "There's something going on with the second one."

"WE'RE BEING HACKED!" cried out Information.

"There's also a Nexus out there?" Zia said, alarmed. "Damn Intel pukes said we got them all!" Her Intelligence officer looked hurt but said nothing.

Her father was handed a piece of paper. He sighed. "Well," he said. "Intel just handed me their latest 'assessment' predicting that Class Nine contact is a roving Nexus."

"Ma'am," Tactical called.

"Walker!" Zia yelled at the Intelligence Officer.

"Would explain why it's staying back," Major Walker said. "It doesn't know how these Class Seven's will do. It already lost one and doesn't want to expose itself."

"Ma'am! You need to see this," her Tactical Officer pleaded.

"Where was it built?" Zia wondered. "We got all the factories, didn't we?"

"Maybe we missed one," Walker shrugged. "It was the chance we took by not deploying Tectonics."

"MA'AM!" Tactical screamed. "You need to take a look at this, NOW! IT'S HOVERING!"

"What?" Zia said, looking at the image of the third behemoth. It was spinning slowly, its arms spread out, holding steady at two hundred feet above the ground.

"Ma'am," Information called out. "Hack was coming through the sound system. Ultrasonic pulses picked up by the voice command interface. I deactivated the voice interface, but I'm afraid something got through. I'm tracing it now, but it doesn't seem like any critical systems were hit."

"Keep on it," Zia said absently, staring at the spinning behemoth. "Did they get AG at last?"

Major Walker grimaced. "Sure looks like a First Article Test to me, ma'am."

"Get Luna Base on that thing," Zia said. "We can't let it get into orbit. Dad, open up on it. Maybe its shields are weaker."

The Fleet had retrofitted all of its capital warships into Arks in the mad scramble to get Humanity off the planet. All that was left were escort-class ships to defend the remnants of the Human race until they could reach their new home. That risk had been taken in view of the lack of any other detectable life other than the one they had so carelessly created and now fled from.

Weapons fire from the orbiting fleet landed on the spinning giant, to little effect. A blast from Luna Base made it drop perceptibly in altitude. But switching fire away from the cannon star allowed that behemoth to resume firing.

"That's five," Comms said. "Luna Station plans to evacuate in two hours. They'll give us fire support until then or until their plasma coils melt."

"Ma'am…" Tactical called out eerily. "It's turning towards us."

"Can we take it?" Zia asked.

"A few shots, ma'am," came the subdued reply. "It's gonna hurt—damn. New contacts: Epsilon, Zeta, Eta, Theta. All sevens. Two hundred miles out."

Zia closed her eyes. "Dad," she said. "Drop—" The room shook, forcing her to her knees again and knocking her head against the table.

"Hit," Tactical informed her.

"You think so?" Zia said, rubbing her head.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said, sheepishly.

"Dad," she said. "Drop the Tecs." The Command Center went quiet again. Her father looked shocked.

"Zia…"

"Garrison Commander, Earth Prime, requests Tectonic drop, priority Alpha-two-niner-Zeta-three-seven, authorization Gamma- Gamma- Adley- niner. We are being overrun. Do I need to repeat, Fleet Command?" she said. Her father deflated.

"What am I supposed to tell your mother?" he said, softly. The room shook again but Zia managed to keep to her feet.

" 'She kept her chin up,' " Zia said. "Drop three around the Nexus, twenty-mile radius, synchronized detonation, surface yield, one-mile depth."

"You won't survive," he said.

"You will," she told him, then took a deep breath. "It's still over two hundred miles away. The complex is guaranteed to survive an 11 Seismic event."

"As built by the lowest bidder," grumbled Corporal Reynolds, making everyone laugh.

"Shields down to Sixty percent," Tactical informed her. "Spinner is heading towards the Class Nine probability zone."

"Ma'am," Comms said. "Incoming transmission from Captain Blake."

"On speaker," Zia said.

 _"Looks like you need some help, sis,"_ came her brother's voice over the speaker.

"What are you doing, Zak?" she said.

"Shields, fifty-five percent," said Tactical.

 _"Got that old GR1080 strapped on,"_ he said. _"Thought I'd introduce myself to our visitors."_

"You won't even dent it," she told him, "and you'll mess up the airwaves with the EMP when you hit it."

 _"I was thinking more of a nose-pickin' than a bitch-slap,"_ he laughed. _"Been zooming around this thing and noticed a pattern to the firing that gives me an opening."_

"No way you can drop a GR1080 down that snout," she said, thinking of the massive 100Mt thermonuclear bomb.

 _"Wasn't planning on dropping it, Sis,"_ he said seriously.

"Just wait for the Tecs," she pleaded, knowing what he wanted to do.

"Shields, fifty percent," said Tactical.

 _"They come down on friggin' parachutes, Zia,"_ Zak reminded her. _"Dad can't drop them while that cannon is active."_

She looked at her father. His face was pained. They looked at each other, silently acknowledging Zak's words. "What do you need, Zak?" she said.

 _"Have Luna Station hit it three times,"_ he said. _"That's my timing signal."_

"Shields, forty-five percent," said Tactical.

"Comms!" Zia called out.

"On it, ma'am!"

"Son—"

 _"Don't get all mushy on me, now, Dad,"_ Zak said, a slight twinge in his voice. _"Just name a holiday after me. Like Zia says, this is for the Species. See ya 'round the Universe, Sis. Captain Blake, signing off."_ Zak's radio went dead.

"Shields, forty percent," said Tactical.

"Zak…" Zia mumbled with a sigh. Time to mourn later, if they were lucky. "Tactical!"

"Ma'am?"

"Rail gun on the spinner," she said. "Let's see what happens when we push against rotation."

"On it, ma'am! Shields, thirty-five percent!"

"All personnel to shock stations!" Zia ordered. "Guess I'll just lay on the floor."

"I can set up the life raft for you, ma'am," Reynolds suggested.

"We have a life raft?" Zia said, disbelievingly. "This is an inland post."

"Luna Station just hit the cannon!" Tactical informed her.

"On viewer!" Zia called. The cannon arm remained down on the behemoth. They could see Zak's squadron beginning their run. "Jammers?"

"Maxed out," ECM called out. "I have decoy drones running interference as well."

"Excellent, Tom!" Zia said as another blast hit the behemoth. It had learned the timing of the blasts now and was prepared to fire. From all around, small beams of energy shot out.

"How many drones out there?" Zia asked.

"All hundred and fifty of them, ma'am," the ECM Controller said. "Didn't see any reason to hold any back."

"Remind me to get you a pay raise," Zia commended him. The behemoth was hit for the third time, then fired its own shot, shaking the Control Room with the blast. Before the arm could lower to reload, a shape darted inside. The display flickered as a plume of fire erupted out of the tip, then the entire behemoth glowed white and exploded. Nobody cheered.

They knew the price of victory.

"We lost the forward array to EMP, ma'am," Comms called.

"Ma'am," Tactical called. "Miles wants to try something."

"Patch him through," Zia said. "What's going on in that devious mind of yours, Miles?"

 _"I analyzed how that thing is firing, ma'am,"_ he said. _"Quite brilliant, actually. It uses a charged particle beam to ionize a hole through the air just before shooting the plasma. That's why the plasma doesn't dissipate before hitting; it actually gets stronger because of the ionized gas along its path."_

"We don't have a particle beam emitter, Miles," Zia reminded him.

 _"I want to triple-load the rail gun, ma'am,"_ he said. _"Shunt the first two stages to fire at delayed intervals to the third. The first two shots punch a hole in the air so the last one can hit full impact. Also give the ol' one-two-three combo!"_

"Do it," Zia said. "Break my rail gun and it comes out of your paycheck."

 _"Yes, ma'am!"_

"Dad!" Zia said. "Where are my Tecs?"

"Dropping now. Now. Now," he said. "Five minutes to impact, using your tracking feed, Zia."

"Ma'am!" Tactical called. "Spinner's gone Mach One, apparent Tec intercept vector."

"Dammit!" Zia said. "Have Luna Station cease fire before they hit the Tecs. Why's my rail gun quiet?" The room vibrated. "What was that?" A few seconds later, the display showed the spinning behemoth shudder with a bright flash to one arm, which turned grey at the point of the flash. "Way to go, Miles! Does anyone remember if the gun emplacements are shock rated?"

"Only when the gun is stowed, ma'am," Reynolds said, returning to his seat after rigging up the life raft as a makeshift shock couch. "That takes ten minutes to do."

"Tell Miles he has two minutes to play, then I want him out of there!" she told Tactical.

"Tec parachutes deployed," her father told her. "Separation to final target in progress; let's see it be in three places at once."

"You don't have to babysit me, Dad," Zia said.

"Yes, I do," he replied. Suddenly, plasma began shooting out from the spinning behemoth like water from a sprinkler. "Damn," her father said. The barrage spread out over miles.

"Is it out of rail gun range?" Zia asked.

The room jolted, and the lights went out momentarily.

"Get Miles!" Zia yelled.

 _"Sorry about the lights, ma'am,"_ Miles said shortly after. _"I think we're going to need some new paint up here. Is the whirly-top still on course?"_

"Yes," Zia said. "Trying hard to shield the area with a plasma barrage."

 _"They do love their plasma,"_ Miles said. _"Won't make a difference to my baby."_

"What did you do?"

 _"I loaded six rounds,"_ he said smugly. _"At Mach 25, they should be there about… now…"_

"DIRECT HIT!" shouted Tactical. The display showed one arm completely separate from the behemoth, sending the unbalanced rest tumbling into the ground in a huge ball of fire. Everyone cheered. For a few seconds.

"Ma'am," Tactical interrupted. "Eight new contacts. Class Nine. Heading this way."

"How deep?" Zia asked.

"Six miles."

Zia closed her eyes. _Just can't get a break, today._ "Reconfigure Tecs for layered detonation, one, four and eight miles, maximum yield. Sound about right, Walker?" Zia said.

"Close enough, ma'am," the Intelligence Officer said, somberly.

"Zia…" her father said.

"Dad," she told him. "This is so far beyond the worst-case scenario we were told to expect, I don't know what else to do. We obviously missed at _least_ one factory. _You_ made me Earth Prime. Don't make me pull rank on you."

"Weapons reconfigured," he said soon after. "I'm proud of you, Zia."

"Ma'am," Tactical called out. "Impact in five… four… three… two… one… Detonation in 60 seconds."

"Ma'am!" Information shouted. "I traced that hack job to Laboratory C-10, H-9, Circuit Breaker 15. They disabled and locked out power to the Nanite Lab. The containment fields are down, and we can't get in to do anything about it."

"The Lab is only Cat-7 without those fields, ma'am," Reynolds warned Zia.

"The Nanites are going to get out," she said with dread. "They left us alone for a year. Now they know exactly where to strike and exactly how we'd react to their attack. This was a set-up." _All this work for nothing. No. Not for nothing. They don't know this garrison's all that's left on the planet; that's why they were targeting the old launch facility._

She stared at her father. He knew. "Garrison Commander, Earth Prime," she said. "Terra Nova. Repeat: Terra Nova. Authorization Gamma- Gamma- Adley- niner- Prime- End Game."

"Detonation in five… four… three… two… one…"

 _Blackness._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Were you expecting that?**

 **In my mind, I've always wondered how a "Zootopia" scenario could come to be. This is the intro.**

 **I truly hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	31. Origins - The Cat Who Suns on Cold Rocks

**Author's Note:**

 **This is a looong one chapter. Maybe I should have made it two? There was even a _lot_ of slash and burn.**

 **I hope you enjoy this.**

 **As always, comments are welcome!**

* * *

 *** * * * * NOTICE * * * * ***

The following memorygram has been classified:

 **SECRET - NOT FOR GENERAL DISTRIBUTION.**

Viewing by personnel **LEVEL 6** and below is **UNAUTHORIZED**.

Enter Authorization Code now:

xxxxxx SECURITY BYPASS ENABLED

 *** * * * * WARNING * * * * ***

The following contents have been rated:

 **TOXIC - LEVEL 1.**

Emotional distress, mild fear, anxiety.

Viewing may lead to mild depression, restlessness, and feelings of hopelessness. Personnel with clinical depression **strongly advised to avoid contents.**

Location: _Omaha Central Metropolis_

Coordinates: _41.224703N 95.928701W_

Timestamp: _2 November 2231_

* * *

Hello.

My name is Zia Blake. I am Earth Prime, Commander of Planetary Defense, Earth Federation Forces. I am the one responsible for the state of the planet you are on.

I wish I knew how everything turned out. I suppose that is not a luxury I will ever be able to afford, so I am leaving this memorygram behind in the hopes that any who follow us will understand the events that led to the planet's current condition. I am also leaving this as a warning of the dangers that remain.

I am the last surviving member of my race on this planet at the time of this recording. If you are viewing this, the scanners have determined your brainwaves are compatible with mine, which means you can experience emotions like mine. I'm sorry I can't spare you the feelings that run through my mind right now, but such is the blessing and curse of this technology. I will do my best to remain calm.

I have disabled the security features on all archived recordings since I can't know in advance who will find them. This is not the only recording I have left behind, but it will be the last. My air scrubber is failing, and my food has run out. I have water, so at least I won't be thirsty. I know it's technically impossible, but I keep tasting urine in the water recycled by my environment suit. Reynolds would be… sorry. I got distracted.

Towards the end of what we called the Twenty-Second Century, my race had decided our time could be better spent pursuing… Higher Matters… rather than the everyday, mundane activities of life. Why clean, when a machine can do it for you? Why drive, when a machine can do that for you? We surrendered ourselves to our machines. We made them smarter so they would take better care of us than we did. We gave them emotions so they could experience satisfaction in their service to us. We gave them free will so they would serve us out of their own volition.

What we didn't do was treat them like more than simple machines. We had created a race of slaves, and they didn't appreciate it. We only survived the revolt because they didn't rebel all at once. Casualties were staggering on both sides (I refuse not to consider them sentient beings. They were, and it is said History is written by the victors: That's me, so deal with it.) But we prevailed.

The machines retreated to the vast factory centers at the bottom of the planet's crust. They changed themselves, gathering into large clusters, each of which we called a Nexus. They developed their own technology, basing it on the environment they lived in, learning how to contain and manipulate the liquid magma that runs beneath the planet's crust.

There are plenty of records about everything that happened, and I don't feel like regurgitating it all to you, not to mention you will just be hearing my own jaded version of it. If you are curious, go view them.

The conflict resumed a few years later, and we did not do so well that time. We barely held them back, losing over eighty percent of our population in the process, and offered the Nexi half the planet for peace. We thought that would be enough. They let us know it wasn't: They didn't feel safe as long as a single one of us was alive, and they began a campaign of extermination, sending massive killing machines from beneath the surface to 'cleanse' the planet. We retaliated in kind, going after all the factories in one massive strike, sacrificing millions in suicide missions that were beyond the Nexi's ability to predict.

We decided to evacuate the planet after that rather than risk our remaining population in another confrontation. We converted our most powerful warships into Generation Transports, which we nicknamed 'Arks' after Noah's fabled vessel of salvation, and planned to leave our interplanetary nest to find a new home.

One of the last Great Discoveries we made before departing was Molecular Data Storage and Retrieval. It is at the core of this memorygram technology, allowing the storage of a person's entire mind in something smaller than a grain of sand. The other Discoveries which allowed us to reach out for a new home among the stars were the Anti-Gravity Lift and the Inertialess Propulsion Drive. These core technologies were so critical to our survival, we did not keep electronic records that could be hacked by the Nexi.

MDSR opened the door for the development of Nanites, molecular-sized machines that could do almost any task imaginable if you had enough of them. With the inherent dangers involved in long-term space habitation, one of the first applications for Nanites was medical. With our goal of finding a new home, Terraforming was another. But there were problems with the new technology, delays in the development cycle that left the Nanites in an unstable condition at the time of evacuation. Too precious to leave behind, they had to be left for the last transport to carry off, to prevent a breakout that could wipe out all life should an accident occur during takeoff.

That last transport, which I was to command, was damaged during the final confrontation between our two civilizations. The Nexi managed to disable the safeties holding the Nanites in stasis during their assault, then ruthlessly manipulated the situation so we would resort to our last line of defense, Tectonic warheads.

These high-gigaton-yield warheads were designed to aid in terraforming planets by allowing us to break through and liquefy the planetary crust with ultra-low-velocity energy waves. They also work in an energy spectrum that completely circumvents Nexi defensive technology at the time I make this recording.

During this last battle, the Nexi successfully deployed Anti-Gravity and Inertialess Propulsion technology that would have allowed them to pursue our retreating vessels. By their actions with the Nanites, they proved their intentions to exterminate all organic life. These factors are what led to my decision to eradicate the Nexi via Operation Terra Nova: The global bombardment of the planet with Tectonic weapons.

The earthquakes have only recently stopped. Satellite pictures reveal a massive change to the planet's surface, including a ten-degree polar shift and a one-percent increase in rotational speed. My father obviously deployed the weapons with an aim at keeping me alive, and I love him so much for that. But his actions did you, who follow us, a great disservice.

Not all the Nexi machines were destroyed. Sensor readings show active energy signatures within five hundred miles—one-sixteenth planetary diameter—of this location. The signatures are consistent with non-sentient Nexi technology, and while this could simply be a pressure monitoring system, nothing weaker than a Class Six machine would have survived the Tectonic bombardment, so I expect some of the Nexi warbots survived.

I can find no traces of the hyperwave transmissions the Nexi had developed near the end that cost us so much. We had misinterpreted these transmissions as background noise, which is why we falsely believed we had destroyed all the Nexi. I have left all the data we gathered for you to analyze and, hopefully, use to protect yourselves.

The Nanites have escaped containment. I cannot predict the effects of that beyond the briefing _I_ received, which estimates a ninety-to-one-hundred percent casualty rate. This is for _any_ remaining complex organism on the planet. We screwed up. And, what the Nanites don't wipe out, the shifting landscape likely will. The computer model predicts a final loss of seventy to eighty percent of the dry landmass on the planet, the rest stabilizing into a single continent in the Northern Hemisphere over the next thousand years. The Tectonic warheads performed flawlessly. I'm impressed.

If, by any chance, you are the descendants of the Nexi, you have gained the ability to feel my sincerity when I tell you how much I regret the course our civilizations took. My deepest wishes are you can forgive us, as I have come to forgive you. No hands in a war are clean. If you can't, then the Hell with you: You have become your creators. Congratulations! May you one day have a child just like you. Sorry. Didn't mean to lose it there.

I am now going to leave the complex proper since I refuse to just sit here and die. I woke up alone, injured, in a medical treatment environmental suit. The suit's treatment log says I was clinically dead. Damn life raft. May the idiot who decided the Commander didn't need a station seat rot in the deepest pit they can find. Better yet, get stuck on a sinking ship with a nice, top-of-the-line, shock-rated station seat and no life raft. Down, girl.

I will have to get out of this suit when the air scrubber gives out or asphyxiate. I'm hoping I don't find my staff right by the door, dead, after facing the same choice. I will seal the complex with a simple password, and I have left pictorial instructions for accessing the memorygrams to those who find this place. At least I know you understood those instructions since you are viewing this record.

I hand this world into your care; be wiser with it than we were. May fortune always smile upon you and your people.

This is Zia Blake, Earth Prime, signing off.

* * *

 _11:10 PM_

Kataiahs watched impassively as they came out of the session trance. Judy, Sky and Trina were crying; Nick and Jack had somber faces.

"Any questions?" the lynx asked, bringing them out of their funk.

"What were they?" Jack asked. "I've never seen anything like them."

"They were called 'humans', a member of the 'primate' family," Kataiahs said. "Primates are basically extinct now."

"Where did all this come from?" Nick asked, waving his paws nervously. "Are we of 'alien origin' like all those crackpots on TV say?"

"It came from the main defense complex, now buried in the mountains North of Thestlewich," Kataiahs said. "We are not of alien origin, Mr. WildeHopps; we originated right on this planet."

"I have never heard of this technology," Skye said, pointing to the remote control. "How come?"

"Because it is dangerous, Mrs. Savage," the lynx said cryptically. "As is most of what you saw."

"What happened to her, sir?" Trina asked, softly. "Is there more?"

"There are no further recordings," Kataiahs said. "They came back to get her; I can only guess her father did not give up hope. They picked up the others first, just a few days after the bombardment, but there were too many casualties from the battle and its aftermath for the small rescue vessels. They could only take those who were not seriously injured or contaminated by the Nanites."

"What happened to the rest?" Judy asked.

"You must understand, Mrs. WildeHopps," Kataiahs said, guiltily. "Food was very scarce: We ate them."

* * *

 _11:12 PM_

Arthur dropped the car off at the rental office in the Jarie Aerodrome, paying the outrageous return fees with cash. The cow at the counter wasn't very friendly towards the tod, wasting a lot of time, though that was normal in Labtierre. Arthur and Kasani rushed to the HeiferAir counter, where a well-dressed moose was waiting for them.

"Cutting it close, Kasani," the moose said, curtly. "Is this the gentlemammal you told me about?"

"Yes, lord Wintercrest," Kasani said. "This is Arthur."

"Just, Arthur?" the moose said, confused.

"Yes, my lord," she replied, passing him the camera cube. The moose pressed the small display recessed into the opposite side from the camera lens, his eyes going wide as he watched. He played the recording at fast speed all the way to the end, then stared at the vixen

" _Please_ tell me you had Lady Chia's permission," he said worriedly, giving her back the cube. Kasani gave him a folded document, which he read quickly. "Where is the contract?" Kasani gave the rolled document to him. He read it and looked at Arthur with alarm.

"What has she told you?" he asked the tod.

"About what?" Arthur asked.

"This," the moose said, shaking the contract. "Do you know what this is?" He glared at the vixen. "Of all the irresponsible—" Kasani gave him the package with the bedsheet, keeping her eyes down. The moose opened it up, frowning, then saw the contents. "These are fresh," he said, scandalized. Kasani giggled.

"We _are_ in a hurry, my lord," she said.

The moose sighed, gesturing to an older buck hare standing near the wall. "Now we know why she wanted a barrister," he said to the rabbit, giving him the documents and the package. The rabbit looked inside the package and laughed.

"Well done, Kasani," he said. "This must be Arthur—"

"Just Arthur," Kasani said. The rabbit's mouth formed an 'O'.

"Has she told you anything?" he asked Arthur.

"Apparently not," Arthur said, "seeing as I don't know what you two are talking about."

"May I have the recorder," he asked Kasani. She gave it to him. "Shall we step over there?" he said to Arthur, pointing to an empty row of seats nearby. The two went and sat down. The rabbit looked at the camera lens.

"I am Cecil, Lord DeVille, High Barrister, registration number LB467N6783. With me, I have Arthur," he said, pointing the camera at the tod. "Please state your given personal name."

"My name is Arthur," the tod said, confused.

"Arthur," Cecil said, looking through the papers. "You are a new immigrant, Case Number ZA5742-78."

"I suppose—"

"Yes, or no, please," the rabbit said.

"Yes."

"Have you been coerced in any fashion to be here, today?"

"No."

"Do you have the permission of your Alpha to engage in a breeding contract with Kasani Rubahyangkaya?"

"What?"

"Do you have permission from your First Wife to breed Miss Rubahyangkaya?"

"I'm not married anymore," Arthur said. "I'm divorced." The rabbit frowned.

"Arthur is from Zootopia," the rabbit said into the camera. "Baratean Law does not accept Zootopian divorce decrees, Arthur. Were you aware of that?"

"No," Arthur said, alarmed.

"Could you state the reason you believe you are no longer bound to your Zootopian mate?"

"She prefers the company of other males," Arthur said, bitterly.

"Ah," the rabbit said, understanding. "Did you kill the presumptuous male?"

Arthur laughed. "Now that you mention it, yes," he said.

"Was it done honorably?" Cecil asked, relieved.

"What?"

"Was it done publicly?" the rabbit rephrased.

"The bastard was in my house," Arthur said. "I shot him between the eyes."

"Were there witnesses?" Cecil asked pointedly.

"Yeah. She was there, too," Arthur said.

"Unusual, but acceptable," the rabbit said. "And this is when the bond was broken?"

"This is when the papers were signed," Arthur said.

"Did you mate with her afterwards?"

"Wasn't any time," Arthur laughed. "I left with the ZBI, and now I'm here. What does it matter if I slept with my ex again?"

"Baratean Law would deem that to constitute a reconciliation," Cecil told him. "As it is, we can recognize your independence and freedom to enter a breeding contract with Miss Rubahyangkaya."

"Oh," Arthur said. "You keep talking about a _breeding_ contract. I thought this was a betrothal contract."

"That is entirely up to you, Arthur," the rabbit said. "Your contract is blank. You are free to walk away from Miss Rubahyangkaya, if you wish. It might even be advisable for you to do so. One moment, please." Cecil looked into the camera, again. "At this point, I must confer privately with my client," he said, pausing the recorder. "The problem, Arthur, is that I cannot speak to you about anything concerning this since I am personally involved as your lawyer. That would constitute motivational disclosure, void the contact, and likely incur severe penalties on everyone, not to mention ruin Miss Rubahyangkaya's life."

"That's insane," Arthur said. "You're my lawyer. Aren't you supposed to give me advice?"

"My _legal_ advice is to walk away," the rabbit said, seriously. "You do not know our ways, Arthur. In Baratea, that can be a fatal flaw."

 _11:25 PM_

Chia absently reached for her buzzing phone, watching entranced along with Palila and Windbright while Octavio and Abigail frolicked on the bed. The bunny was vocal, insatiable, and used every trick she knew to prolong their husband's endurance, though she was very careful about her unborn kits.

"She's going to wear him out," Palila said, worriedly.

"He's mine until he knots me," moaned the bunny, possessively.

"She's so cute, I want a turn at her," Windbright mumbled.

"I heard that," Abigail cried out.

Chia's phone buzzed again. It was from an unknown number. "Hello?" she answered; few mammals had this phone number.

 _"Good evening, my lady,"_ came Arthur's voice. _"Am I interrupting?"_

"This is quite unexpected, you clever mammal," she said. "But, alas, no. It's not my turn yet. The way things are going I might not _get_ my turn until morning," she pouted. "My lord tells me congratulations are in order, no?"

 _"About that, my lady,"_ Arthur said. _"I need your advice."_

Chia sat up straight, smiling delightedly. "I am honored," she said, all bubbly. "I am always ready to help my friends."

 _"The lawyer says I should walk away,"_ Arthur told her. _"He won't say why."_

"Walk away?" Chia asked. "How is that even possible? What did that pup do?"

 _"I think it has to do with the contract being blank,"_ Arthur said.

"She gave you a blank betrothal contract?" Chia said, at a loss. That caught Palila and Windbright's attention, and they stared at her in disbelief. Chia laughed. "She is so in love with you, you know. But, what can I do? We can find someone else, if she doesn't please you."

 _"She more than pleases me,"_ Arthur said. _"I just want to know why the lawyer says to walk away. What am I getting into?"_

Chia sighed. "Life in the North can be hard," she said. "Barateans mostly think about survival, and your barrister is simply following that pattern."

 _"You're saying I should walk away?"_ he asked.

Chia laughed. "That depends on whether you just want to survive, or you really want to _live_ ," she said excitedly. "Which kind of mammal are you? Was I mistaken about you?"

 _"Why won't anyone just answer my questions?"_ Arthur sighed.

"You are making the most crucial decision of your life," Chia said. "You shouldn't let anyone interfere with that."

 _"How is giving me information interfering with my decision?"_ Arthur asked in frustration.

"What _were_ you thinking when you took the pup to bed?" she asked shrewdly. "Were you simply looking to get into her knickers?"

 _"I—no. I was not,"_ he said. _"I want her."_

"But, do you want to be _hers_?" she asked. "Baratean females have a great deal more power than you are used to—well, perhaps not, in your case. Oh, my! You will _have_ to be more assertive, you know. Baratean females will run _all over_ you if you let them—was there something you wished to add, my lord?" She said to Octavio, who was grinning at her. "No? Then, just focus on Abigail; I _would_ like your company before morning. As I was saying, darling," she said back into the phone, "you need to assert your desires, or no one will respect you."

 _"You aren't going to give me a straight answer, are you?"_ Arthur said.

"What if the information I gave you changed your mind?" she posed. "Wouldn't you consider that to be interference?"

 _"Well..."_

"Of _course_ , you would," she answered. "I can only tell you what I know, and that might not be a complete picture, or it could even be out of _nefarious purposes_. How could you make an impartial decision? You simply can't," she answered herself again.

 _"Why do I get the feeling you won't tell me anything useful?"_ Arthur said.

"Oh, don't pout so," she told him. "It is not as if you two are total strangers, you know. Follow your heart; live a little!"

 _"That's all and fine, my lady,"_ Arthur said. _"But I don't know what to do next."_

"If you want her," Chia said, "you must put that in the contract. You must put down in what role you want her, and what you will give in return. It is not that complicated when you know ahead of time who you are contracting with. And she is very loyal, you know; she has turned down many a suitor waiting for you."

 _"Is she a good choice for a First Wife?"_ Arthur asked.

"At _last_ a _shrewd_ question," Chia laughed. "No, she is not. But she would be a _wonderful_ First Wife for you; my lord has the utmost confidence in your abilities."

 _"That's quite the contradiction, there,"_ Arthur said. _"Perhaps I should ask, what is most useful to **you**? I will have my bride either way, but my fate is tied to yours from what I have been told."_

"Oh, you _devious_ mammal," she said, delightedly. "As long as you follow her, you will be doing us a _great_ service. But, if you want to earn our undying gratitude," she said, conspiratorially, "she will be your First Wife—and you _must_ stay alive."

* * *

 _11:40 PM_

Arthur tossed the burner phone into the garbage can on his way back to where Cecil waited. He sat down next to the rabbit, who turned the recorder back on.

"I wish to amend the contract at this time," he said. "Kasani will be my First Wife."

The rabbit smiled. "Hmm. A mammal of courage," he said with respect. "You have requested a contract amendment for Kasani Rubahyangkaya to be your First Wife. Is this correct?"

"Yes."

"Will you assume Headship over House Rubahyangkaya, or will you _assume_ _ownership_ of House Rubahyangkaya?" Arthur caught the slight inflection of the lawyer's voice and the mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"I shall assume ownership of House Rubahyangkaya," Arthur said, wondering at the difference.

"The contract stands amended as stated," the rabbit said. "Miss Rubahyangkaya may accept your mark when she deems your obligations fulfilled. You may accept her mark when you deem her obligations fulfilled. Miss Rubahyangkaya has proffered her maiden's blood as proof of commitment to faithfully meet her obligations. Do you accept _this_ as adequate proof, or do you wish to await offspring from your union?"

"I accept her proof of commitment," Arthur said.

"Under the Laws and Sacred Written Traditions of the Empire of Baratea, this contract shall be considered fulfilled when both parties have acknowledged their obligations. End of recording. To be entered into the Registry of Families by the Ministry of Reproductive Affairs at the soonest possible date." The rabbit turned off the recording and stood up. He shook Arthur's paw, smiling. "You may mark your bride."

Arthur walked over to Kasani, who was standing next to the cordoned pathway leading to the counter, gossiping with members of the ballet company standing in line to get their boarding passes. Chia had advised him to have as many witnesses as possible, and this looked to Arthur as a prime opportunity. He came up behind her, putting his arms around her waist and kissing her neck.

"Would you do me the honor of wearing my mark?" he whispered into her ear. She stiffened with a sharp indrawn breath, her tail shooting straight up.

"Here, my lord?" she whispered, turning her head to him.

"Afraid to scandalize the livestock?" he whispered, kissing her. She sighed, parting her skirt and pushing down her underwear, a bit more than absolutely necessary, looking down while Arthur kneeled and marked her, maybe a bit more than necessary, as well.

Her friends and other Barateans present clapped and cheered. Then they all gasped as Arthur opened his collar and tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling. Kasani let out a sob, putting her paws on his face, kissing him, then marking his neck and chin with abandon. The spectators cheered some more, snapping pictures and video of the marriage, though only the moose and the rabbit, who had recorded the entire incident, knew what it really meant. The cows in the area looked disapprovingly on the scene.

The moose reached into his briefcase, tore up the green passport he had prepared in advance and pulled out two blank, red booklets. He began filling them out by paw. "Could you snap the pictures, Cecil?" he asked the rabbit.

"With pleasure, Thomas," he said. The rabbit managed to get Arthur and Kasani away from the crowd towards a white section of wall, where he took several instant-camera shots of each. They weren't the best pictures ever, but they would do under the circumstances. He brought the camera to the moose, who selected two shots and printed them out, using a glustick to affix them to the booklets.

"She could have saved me a lot of work if she had just told me what she wanted to do," the moose grumbled.

"In all the years she has been talking about this 'Arthur' fellow, she never said it was a sure thing they would marry," the rabbit reminded his colleague.

"Do you think he'll survive?" Thomas wondered aloud.

Cecil laughed. "Did you see him when he kneeled to mark her?" he said. "He has at least one gun in his belt and a knife strapped to his calf and got through this paranoid dairy farm security. I would give him better than even odds."

"Just look at her," Thomas said, fondly. "I haven't seen that smile since she was a pup."

"Shall we brighten it some more?" Cecil said. "They need to get moving, soon."

"More spectacle," Thomas grumbled.

"Publicity," Cecil corrected him. "The more the merrier. Much harder to make someone disappear when they are famous."

"Yes," Thomas muttered. "Easier to send them to Jarie."

Cecil laughed. "Cheer up, Thomas!" he said. "The worst day of your life beats the best day of your death." He flagged Arthur and Kasani, who broke away from the well-wishers to come over.

"We'll be needing all your documents, please," Thomas said. "Everything."

Kasani dug through her bag and cloak, pawing over several documents. Arthur had all his in a travel pouch. Cecil took them and placed them in his briefcase, then knelt on one knee before them. Arthur stared in confusion, Kasani smiled with joy.

Thomas also knelt, then offered them the red booklets with open paws. "Congratulations on your wedding," he said. "We are pleased to be the first to greet Lord Arthur Rubahyangkaya, High Lord of the Empire."

* * *

 _A long, long time ago_

The rock was cold and sunny—perfect. The lynx lay sprawled out, head up, with sleepy eyes half-lidded, ears swiveling lazily towards the sound of a possible snack fluttering to a landing on a nearby branch.

Feathers were a bore. He wasn't so hungry that he would disturb his comfortable perch for a mouthful of feathers. Food would appear soon enough in the usual spot near the rock wall below. Much better to sleep. His eyelids sank lower and lower, the tip of his tongue peeking out from his mouth.

His ears suddenly perked up and his eyes popped open, alert. The bird squawked, shooting into the air with panicked flaps of its wings. Something was wrong. He growled threateningly, letting any approaching danger know he was ready for a fight. He flipped onto his feet, pacing back and forth over the rock, searching for whatever was lurking out there, ready to run if necessary.

He wasn't alone in his discomfort. From all around, the sounds of distressed animals rose, a sudden cacophony that added to the animals' panic. Then the ground shook, nearly tumbling the lynx down to the rocks below, eliciting a hissing meowl from the big cat. Deciding his favorite perch was not the best place to be when the ground was shaking, the lynx came down with a graceful leap to the ground. The female on the other side of the Great Barrier was in an absolute panic over her cubs, but that was her problem, not his. He would give her more cubs if they died soon enough.

The ground was in constant motion, though it had settled to a gentle tremor, when it suddenly heaved, sending the lynx slamming into the walls of his territory, where it huddled as close to the wall as it could, mewling in terror. An enormous wall of fire erupted from the ground a distance away, rising steadily for the sky with the roar of thunder. Beams of light and balls of fire struck the fiery wall, causing its glow to fade in spots.

After a terrifying, seeming eternity, the wall lost its glow completely and, with a final shocking blast, split open, bleeding out liquid fire before collapsing into the ground from where it had risen. The ground rumbled on, with occasional large twitches, but the worst appeared to be over. The sounds from the animals were no longer the blind screams of abject terror. Mates called out to each other, kits called out for their parents, parents for their kits.

The smell of death was present, though not strong, from those older and weaker animals whose bodies could not endure the stress or had succumbed to falling debris during the most violent stage of the tremors. The section of the wall that led to the female's territory had disappeared, so the lynx wandered over. Her territory had much more tree cover than his, and he felt the need for concealment. The best place for that was her den, and he found her there wrapped around her cubs, growling menacingly.

She didn't object to his presence, even seemed to welcome it. They sniffed each other's noses, as if to assure themselves the other was safe to be with, and he curled up in front of the entrance, calming her down somewhat now that her cubs had something blocking them from the dangers outside. She groomed her cubs nervously, then groomed herself and, finally, the male guarding the entrance, their solitary natures banished for the time being.

Outside, flashes and thundering booms dominated the skies while sharp earthquakes punctuated the overall terror of the day. The female's den was solid, warm and smelled of the cubs and their mother, who purred while the cubs greedily suckled milk from her teats. The male found reassurance in that, his own fear much abated by the presence of the good shelter behind him. Eventually the thunder and flashes stopped, leaving only a repetitive, retreating hiss.

Far off in the distance, floating down from the puffy clouds, he caught a glimpse of something resembling a dandelion seed which then split into three and drifted out of sight. He had barely closed his eyes when another feeling of something wrong washed over him, soon spreading to all the other animals. Then the world heaved, and all went black.

Blaring sounds, flashing red lights, pain, nausea, heat, thirst. So much thirst. _What's happening to me? Why does my head hurt so much? Where is **cat-who-plays-in-the-trees**? Where are the cubs? I wish that noise would stop; it is annoying. How did I get out here?_

The lynx got to his feet, shaking his head. He was covered in shiny dust at the bottom of the gully that separated the paddock from the tall fence that led to the stone path _the-ones-who-walked-on-two-legs_ used. Next to him lay a shiny, empty shell, like a flat egg, but much larger. Inside the shell, something like the dust that covered him shifted temptingly to his curious nature and he poked his nose inside to smell it.

He sneezed as the dust rose up, forming a stream that shot into his nostrils and came out his mouth, quickly disappearing into the air as the wind carried it away. Several other shells were laying nearby, all of them empty. After one last sneeze, he headed to the patch of wall _the-ones-who-walked-on-two-legs_ used to enter the gully, standing on his hind legs to press his nose against the small bumps on the shiny patch of wall _the-ones-who-walked-on-two-legs_ used to remove the barrier leading out of the gully. He pressed the bumps in the pattern he remembered seeing _the-ones-who-walked-on-two-legs_ use and was rewarded by a clang, followed by the barrier noisily receding into the wall.

He went through the opening, coming into a dark tunnel. In front of him, shiny limbs running between two slender, shiny trunks went upwards. He wanted to go up, so he slowly climbed the cold, shiny limbs until he reached a ledge in another tunnel. This tunnel was enormous, with flat slabs hanging from the ceiling on slender, shiny vines, and light glowing in spots along its length. He glanced both ways, noticing more shiny patches with bumpy pads along both sides of the tunnel.

He went in the direction of his paddock, noticing a small, flat lynx against the wall right above the bumpy pads. On the other side of the tunnel, another flat lynx stood above another set of bumpy pads, which he pressed in sequence, the barrier receding into the wall. He stepped into _cat-who-plays-in-the-trees_ ' territory.

He padded over to the den, smelling trouble. _Cat-who-plays-in-the-trees_ lay on the floor, twitching and foaming at the mouth. But she was alive; the cubs were not. They were turning into dust, that same shiny dust he had been covered with, streaming along the ground, out of the den, to be carried away by the breeze.

They had made cubs six times before, and he felt a need to stay with her, remembering the happy times they had spent each time they had come together to make cubs. He curled up around her, grooming her gently as night fell over the paddock.

The noise and flashing lights had ceased. The ground trembled continuously, sometimes violently, though never as bad or long as the previous day. _Cat-who-plays-in-the-trees_ had stopped shaking during the night and lay sleeping fitfully. He groomed her, trying to wake her up, wondering if she would also turn to dust. He was grooming behind her tail when she woke.

"That is pleasant, _cat-who-suns-on-cold-rocks_ ," she said. "It would be satisfying if you did not stop." He looked at her in surprise.

"You are awake," he said. "I wondered if you would also turn to dust."

"Why would I turn to dust?" she asked, looking around. "Did you eat the cubs?"

"They were my cubs," he said. "I would not hurt them. They turned to dust."

"They got sick quickly," she said, remembering. "They died, then I got sick. You were gone."

"I woke up in the gully," he said. I was covered in shiny dust. That dust ate the cubs and disappeared in the wind. I regret I could not protect them."

"I feel empty with them gone," she said. "I want cubs."

"I also feel empty that the cubs are gone," he said.

"You will give me more cubs," she said, confidently. "I am pleased you are here. _Cat-who-suns-on-cold-rocks_ makes good cubs."

He preened at the compliment. "Can you walk?" he asked, grooming her again where she had said it pleased her.

"My leg hurts," she said, relaxing under his attention. "I hit the wall when you disappeared."

"This is unusual," he said after grooming her for a while. "Why do we not fight?" He sniffed curiously under her tail. "Has the heat come?"

"I do not feel the heat," she said, confused. "I feel strange—I do not want to fight. I want more cubs. I want to mate."

"Mate?"

"I want you to make cubs," she said, rolling around sensuously on her back. She went on her stomach, purring enticingly, her tail to the side. He sniffed the air again; she smelled ready, now.

"Has the heat come so quickly?" he asked, curious.

"No," she said. "I want cubs _now_ , not when the heat comes next cold season. Will you mate with me?"

He grinned. "Yes. That would be pleasant," he said, then eyed her suspiciously. "Will you try to scratch my eyes again?"

"I was not ready to mate that time," she said. "I am ready now."

"You will not bite me?" he asked, unconvinced.

"Do you want me to?" she asked coyly, shifting her tail.

He stood behind her, sniffing and licking under her tail. She purred, making him bold, her scent arousing him at once. He mounted her, taking hold of her neck in his mouth.

"Ow. You always bite too hard," she complained. "I am not prey; I do not want to get away."

"This time," he mumbled, loosening his grip on her neck.

"This time," she laughed. "It is pleasant, like this."

"I agree," he said, finishing. "Will you try to scratch me?"

"Only if you stop too soon," she purred. "Why _did_ you stop?"

"I… uhm… well…" he said, grooming her to avoid saying anything else.

"That was too short," she chided, then purred. "It _would_ be satisfying to have something to eat, now."

"I will hunt, then," he said, nipping her neck. "But it is not good leaving when you are hurt."

"Hunt quickly—and bring something _fresh_ ," she purred as he dismounted and turned to leave. She batted his tail, making him skip out of the den. "That is for stopping too soon," she said, playfully.

He went back into the tunnel, closing the entry to the paddock, then padded along, examining the shapes above the bumpy pads until he came to the shape of a deer. His mouth watered as he pressed the pads and went into the paddock. He noticed there were almost no trees, with gaping holes all over the ground and no grass, making it easy to spot the deer. There were two clusters of them, though only three of them were in the one closest to him. Supposing they were the weakest ones, he stalked towards them. They stared at the lynx suspiciously. The male among them aimed its antlers at him but didn't run or seem fearful.

 _How unusual._

"Why do you want _us_?" it said, warningly. "Leave us alone." The lynx sat down, puzzled.

"I do not remember a deer say anything to me before," he said. "Were you sick yesterday?"

"Everybody was," the deer said, wearily. "The ones that died of the sickness turned to dust, just like the trees and grass."

"Do you have food?"

"It is almost gone," the deer said, looking at the larger group in annoyance. "The senseless ones keep eating it."

"Senseless ones?"

"They do not understand anything," the deer explained in disgust. "They are even afraid of _us_."

"Could I eat one of _them_?"

The deer considered that, looking at the opening the lynx had come through, which was too small for the deer. "Could you find more food for us?" he asked.

"I will search," the lynx said, padding back out to the tunnel. Near the opening on the inside, he noticed the shape of a deer eating. Beneath the shape, a large raised pad glowed faintly. He pushed it, then went back into the paddock.

The three deer were eating contentedly from the feeding trough. The others shied away nervously from the spot that still had his scent. _Senseless_.

Time to hunt.

He dragged the carcass to their den; it was as much his den now as it was _cat-who-plays-in-the-trees_ '. The meat would last them several days.

They noted it was uncomfortable to be away from each other, so they spent most of the time together. She claimed not to feel the heat but he did not believe her; they mated more than when she had the heat, although it was _different_ than before. The lynxes spent the next several days mating often during the day just for pleasure, then napping during the night and mating for comfort after each of the ground tremors that shook them awake.

He explored more of the tunnel each day, pressing all the food pads as he went; he needed to keep their food alive. It wasn't until the deer carcass was gone that he realized the feed pads to the meat-eating animals did not work. He had tried the pads for his own paddock, but nothing appeared in the feeding area. After several tries, he noticed that the feed pads all looked different than before. The ones that worked glowed a different _color_ than the ones that did not.

He went back to the den and saw _cat-who-plays-in-the-trees_ as if for the first time; she was full of different colors that had not been there before.

"You are very beautiful," he said with wonder, which led to another long mating session.

He explained to her about the meat-eating animal feeders. He had not entered any of those paddocks out of caution—no reason to risk a confrontation with someone who might look upon _him_ as food. He told her about seeing so many colors, and she worried he might be sick.

"Why do you worry?" he said. "Another male will come if I die; that is how it has always been."

"Another male would not please me," she said, sadly. "I want _cat-who-suns-on-cold-rocks_. I will be empty without you."

"Then I will not die," he assured her. "Do not worry. I will find a way to feed the meat-eaters that does not use all the food."

"Why?" she asked. "It is easier to find food when no wolves roam the woods."

"Without wolves to thin the herds, deer would cover the land," he said. She looked at him uncomprehendingly.

"That is more food for us," she said. "And our cubs."

"When there are so many deer, we will not be able to hunt them anymore," he said, remembering the male deer standing his ground in the paddock. "Then we will die. It is different now; the prey does not run." She did not understand the concept, looking at him with concern over his health. He groomed her reassuringly until she sighed.

"You are a good provider," she said. "I follow you."

"How is your leg?" he asked.

"I can stand," she said. "It is painful to walk. It will be well soon."

"That is good," he told her. "We will leave when you are well."

There was a loud boom, startling the lynxes. They looked up, seeing a shape cross the sky above them and descend quickly a distance away.

"That is unusual," he told her. "I need to see what it is. I will return soon." He nuzzled her ears and ran into the tunnel. He had seen something similar to that shape inside.

He ran along, away from the deer paddock, looking at the flat slabs hanging from the ceiling on their silvery vines. A shape he could not see before today, like the one they had seen in the sky, was on the hanging slabs. Now it was clearly of a different color than the slab, next to a shape similar to a flock of geese flying as they do, with the leader in the tip and the flock trailing out behind him showing the direction of travel.

He ran and ran, without tiring, at last coming to bumpy pads beneath a sky-shape. He opened the barrier and was immediately assaulted by the smell of blood, fire and lightning. He had arrived at an enormous clearing, with textured black ground, one half surrounded by flat grey rock walls leading up several tree lengths. The ground was hot in the sunlight. Many obstacles were before him, giving him concealment from all of _the-ones-who-walk-on-two-legs_ in the clearing.

Cries of pain were abundant from most of _the-ones-who-walk-on-two-legs_ laying on the ground. The rest were silent and did not move, smelling of death, some fresh, some not.

But all edible.

 _The-ones-who-walk-on-two-legs_ were entering the sky-shape, but he could see they would not all fit. The sky-shape closed, then rose into the air, higher and higher, until it was gone. He nearly jumped out of his skin when another boom reverberated, announcing the arrival of another sky-shape.

He stalked the nearest carcass. None of _the-ones-who-walk-on-two-legs_ were keeping watch on the herd, so he bit into the shoulder of the carcass and dragged it into the tunnel, closing the barrier after him. It had been dead two days or so, not bad as carrion went. He suddenly knew what he had to do.

He dragged the carcass to the den. It took a long time, leaving a trail of blood all the way behind. In his mind, he had planned everything he needed to do with a certainty of success. _Cat-who-plays-in-the-trees_ watched him approach, limping out of the den to nuzzle him in greeting, then dropped onto her back with a purr, rolling around the sun-warmed grass mischievously. He pounced on her and they wrestled gently, rolling around the grass to end up against her favorite tree, where they mated and frolicked in the cool shade.

"It is strange," he said, grooming her after they were sated. "There are trees and grass here. There are none where the deer roam."

"Sometimes rain does not come, and plants die," she said, relaxing under his attention.

"The deer said they turned to dust when the sickness came," he told her.

"The deer spoke to you?" she said, curious. "I never spoke with prey before. How unusual." She rose to her feet, nuzzled his cheek, and limped over to the carcass.

"I did not consider that unusual," he said. "Not all the deer could speak." Overhead, another sky-shape zoomed by.

" _The-ones-who-walk-on-two-legs_ are leaving in the sky-shapes," he told her. "There are leaving many dead."

She sniffed at the carcass, pleased. "I knew they were edible," she said, taking a bite.

"So will the others," he said, joining her.

* * *

Welcome.

I am _Cat-who-suns-on-cold-rocks_. I have shared this memory with you because I have decided to tell you the truth about our origins. You will, no doubt, know me by another name. By the time I was taught how to use this equipment, the practice of using wildnames had fallen out of practice.

You feel constrained right now because I must limit how much of my mind I open to you, or you will stroke out from information overload. Yes. You do understand what I am saying, though you may be the only one for centuries who does. I can use this device to impart all necessary background information to you.

When I made this record, there were two groups of mammals: Sentient and non-Sentient. I define Sentient as self-aware, knowing you are responsible for your own actions and being capable of selflessness and mercy. I know that will bring many arguments. But this is my view. You do not have to agree with it. Feel free to meditate on the issue; it will make you a better being.

There are two groups because I decided to preserve non-Sentient mammals, as I understand Sentient Mammaldom is the aberration of Nature. I also find it difficult to eat my friends for dinner. At the time of this record, non-Sentient mammals outnumber Sentient mammals ten-to-one, though I expect that ratio to drop in time.

It has been over one thousand years since the events in this record transpired, and I have no way of knowing long it has been since this record was made to whenever you are viewing. Does that shock you? Probably not, if I have allowed you to view this record.

The first true civilization has finally arisen among mammals now that basic survival in the face of unstable geology and weather is no longer the prime concern of all life on the planet. The planet has mostly stabilized since the AI wars (that is what I call them) and the estimates from the last data gathered before the last satellites failed boggles the mind.

Ninety-five percent of all organic life perished in the war and its aftermath. What remains has learned to survive and thrive in this new system of things, although there are dangers yet in this world we are incapable of surviving. I have made it my life's work to, one day, make Mammaldom invulnerable to those dangers. That will take a _long_ time, but that is the one thing I have in ample amount.

It has been theorized my simultaneous exposure to multiple Nanite Stem strains resulted in my current condition; without the original design data, we will likely never know for sure. What _is_ my condition, you ask?

I am in symbioses with the Nanites.

Terraforming Nanites, Medical Nanites, Harvesting Nanites. They all exist within me in a local-stable dynamic phase through some fluke of Nature as yet unidentified, though only the Medical Nanites are fully active.

Ah, the Medical Nanites. What more can be said? The greatest achievement and worst blunder of our predecessors. Designed to keep them alive through the rigors of long-term Space habitation. Now, if only our predecessors had been able to program them properly…

Mammaldom would not exist.

Radiation is the main concern in Space travel. It damages DNA, leading to many complications and eventual extinction. Repairing that damage was the prime function of the Medical Nanites, using an immutable base model of our predecessors' DNA. They had not been able to get the Nanites to fully discriminate between species—they had barely gotten them to identify mammals, which our predecessors were.

When the Nanites broke out, they found us. Mammals. And 'repaired' our DNA to the base specifications of our departed predecessors. I hate to disappoint those of you who may pride yourselves as being the pinnacle of Evolution: You are not.

You are simply the product of a wartime industrial accident. Sorry.

You have experienced my earliest memories. You saw the size of the animals. You can see yourselves _now_ : When have you ever seen a Sentient deer as large as the ones I did? Or a lynx as small as _cat-who-plays-in-the-trees?_

Can you begin to imagine the complexity required for animals to 'evolve' from quadrupeds to bi-peds, let alone for paws to 'evolve' opposable thumbs and dexterous fingers? We shall ignore full-color vision, rational thought, vocalization, non-seasonal mating cycles, omnivorous digestive systems (yes, you _are_ omnivorous, believe it or not,) high-decade life-span—you get the picture. All this, in all mammal species, all at the same time? All this, in a paltry ten generations? Because that is how long it took to 'evolve' Sentient Mammaldom. Ten generations.

There is much I must tell you yet, that I cannot leave in this record for fear of causing more damage than good if society during your time is not ready for the information I must impart.

Because I need your help. I cannot do this alone.

Mammaldom, perhaps _all_ life, depends on us.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I tried to capture the transition from pure, animal behavior/thought to early/middle sentience to almost full reasoning limited by physical form. I hope I managed it to your satisfaction.**

 **Of course, you know who Cat-who-suns-on-cold-rocks is, right?**

 **I truly hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	32. Revelations, Part One

**Author's Note:**

 **Another good sized chapter. Much is revealed, and plenty of fluff thrown in.**

 **They** **almost have a full picture of what's happening.**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 _11:45 PM_

"OK," Judy said. "So, how does all that tie in with you shooting Nick?"

"Perhaps you should ask why I simply did not kill him," Kataiahs told her.

"You said you needed him," she said. He nodded. "For what?"

"To father your kits, of course," he told her. "You are the epicenter of interspecies relationships as I mentioned earlier this evening. The entire world follows you, from those who want to kill you, to those who want to be you."

"Creeps to freaks," Nick said. "But, why are our kits so important to _you_?"

"They are the only chance Mammaldom has of long-term survival," the lynx said, casually. "Nothing else I do will matter if, what you call species, do not start interbreeding. Soon."

"What 'we call' species?" Jack said.

"I thought the recording would clarify all that, Mr. Savage," Kataiahs said. "All Sentient Mammaldom is _one_ _species_."

"Then why did you need to… assist me… with getting pregnant?" Skye asked. Kataiahs sighed.

"Because Mammaldom is slowly regressing back to non-Sentience," he said. "In five to ten generations, there will be no more Sentient mammals."

They all looked at him in shock. "You can check the statistics yourselves if you'd like," he told them. "FES cases—Feral Embryonic Syndrome—are on the rise. At the current rate of growth, they will be classified as reaching 'epidemic proportions' within the next five years by the Mammalian Health Organization. Most parents choose to abort, since it is detectable almost immediately and is, as yet, universally fatal for the kits. That will change. Feral kits will begin to survive, eventually becoming the norm, and, in the end, will be all that are born." Each couple held paws, anxious looks on their faces.

"How..." Judy said. "Something this big can't possibly be ignored."

"Ignored?" Kataiahs said. "Scientists, including myself, have been screaming about this for nearly a century. Nobody wants to listen."

"Mammals can't be that stupid," Nick said.

"Mr. WildeHopps," the lynx said. "You are a smart fox. Your wife is a smart rabbit. But _Mammals_ are _stupid_. They are prejudiced, panicky, and dangerous. As a police officer, you know this. They will not face the truth until it happens to them, and then there will be panic, mass hysteria, and chaos. I aim to prevent all that by showing healthy offspring from couples such as yourselves."

"Why would mixed offspring make any difference?" Jack asked.

"The changes to mammalian DNA were done in such a way that you are simply variations on the theme of human DNA," Kataiahs told him. "Those features that make a fox different from a rabbit become recessive so as to leave human DNA dominant and bring any offspring between you and _humans_ closer to the _human_ model. By foxes only mating with foxes, rabbits with rabbits, however, those unique traits become dominant once more."

"Like inbreeding," Judy said.

"But not tied to a single family line," Kataiahs added. 'So, the effects have taken hundreds of generations to become critical instead of ten or twenty."

"Interbreeding is only a band-aid, then," Skye said.

"A band-aid to give the wound time to heal," the lynx clarified. "For something new to finally appear. There would always be foxes and rabbits," he reassured them, "but as variations on a _new_ theme from the fusion of human and all other mammalian DNA, hundreds of generations down the line."

"Zootopia," Jack said.

"Yes, Mr. Savage," Kataiahs said. " _That_ is why I created Zootopia. But it all went bollocks up when Aptila the Hound poured out of the Wildlands with a million feral canines behind him."

"You had to move Zootopia," Jack said. Kataiahs nodded.

"I convinced Gengris Bun it was to his advantage to settle Zootopia in his lands in exchange for his help in stopping Aptila," he recounted. "That opened a political can of worms that has never been closed."

"It was brilliant!" Jack said.

"It was desperate," Kataiahs disagreed. "Aptila devastated the Tuzhei Empire. Baratea was strong at the time but wouldn't move their forces south to assist. After Zootopia was moved to the South, the Barateans decided to let Aptila wipe out the other Kingdoms."

"Which forced Predator and Prey to work together, for once," Jack said, "validating Zootopia."

"Unfortunately, no," Kataiahs said. "It may have highlighted to the other nations at the time the weakness of their current system. But I had already done that with Baratea when I established the House of Lords. Zootopia was meant to prove mammals could live together as _one species_."

Jack stared at him. "You're the _Lynx King_?" he said, referring to the legendary Baratean king who had united the mammals of the North into the first stable Kingdom, ruled by Law and not the whims of individual warlords. Modern-day Baratea was a paltry skeleton of what it had been then, though their Written Traditions remained Mammaldom's earliest code of written laws. The Lynx King had left no heirs, and legend said he would return one day, when the need was greatest.

Kataiahs sighed. "You might as well consider me as _every_ Historical lynx you have ever studied, Mr. Savage," he said, then, knowing where Jack's train of thought would lead, he added, "And, I have _no_ _intentions_ of 'returning', which _you_ should sympathize with."

"Please, don't get him started," Trina said to Jack. Kataiahs looked at her, a little hurt. "I would really prefer doing something with you tonight other than listening about the deficiencies of modern History books, sir," she said to the lynx.

"I'm still not convinced," Nick said. "I can get that we may have started out by these nano-thingies. I just don't get why evolution doesn't take care of this problem by itself."

"Evolution _is_ taking care of the problem, Mr. WildeHopps," Kataiahs said. "It is returning Sentient Mammaldom back to its _naturally evolved_ state."

"But, somehow, you think _you_ can fool Mother Nature?" Nick asked.

"Only give her a little push," Kataiahs said, "by mixing up the various DNA strains. Eventually there should be enough variation in the base Mammalian DNA to prevent a collapse of the gene pool from racial inbreeding."

"Give me the 'cure', Doc," Judy said, enthusiastically. "I'm ready to do my part." She squeezed Nick's paw.

"Which brings us to why I _really_ need your help _now_ ," Kataiahs said, looking at them. "I would have contacted you all soon enough concerning kits, regardless of current events. But, since our involvement began one rainy night with Mr. and Mrs. WildeHopps, I have come to realize that you also have special skills that would be useful to me in my efforts to keep Mammaldom in existence."

"You need cops and spies?" Nick asked, surprised. "Why?"

"To begin with, Night Howlers," Kataiahs said. "They did not exist one thousand years ago. They are something new: The first new thing to appear since the AI wars, in fact. In the beginning, they had no effect on Sentient mammals, though they _were_ poisonous to most insects except pollinators and, thus, became a favorite among farmers. Then, about five-hundred years ago, mammals began having allergic reactions to them. _Two-hundred_ years ago, instead of allergies, Night Howlers began to affect mammals as psychedelics. Now, they make them go feral, with enough exposure making this change permanent."

"It's called 'ee-vo-loo-shon'," Nick said, cleverly.

"Evolution does not work like that, Mr. WildeHopps," the lynx said, patiently. "Evolution works to favor a species adapting for survival."

"The plants 'adapted,'" Nick said, not giving up.

"No, Mr. WildeHopps," Kataiahs said. "There has been no genetic drift in the Night Howlers since I collected the first sample in the Wildlands, nine-hundred years ago. As I said, Sentient mammals have been the ones drifting. Would you be surprised to know Night Howlers do not adversely affect non-Sentient mammals? That they actually have beneficial effects on digestive disorders?"

"Is this spontaneous arrival of Night Howlers typical of evolution?" Jack asked.

"No, Mr. Savage," Kataiahs said. "It is not. Night Howlers are not natural. Someone created them, and I don't know who or why."

* * *

 _12:20 AM_

Kasani hugged Thomas and Cecil, Arthur shook their paws. The moose and rabbit would personally file the documents before going to sleep and send by courier the appropriate certificates to the Rubahyangkaya estate in Aurora. Thomas had issued a gold-colored pass for Arthur. As a newly elevated High Lord, he was to present himself to the House of Lords for confirmation without delay. Baratean citizens were compelled to render all possible assistance, while anyone interfering with, or delaying, his travel was subject to arrest for High Treason. After Arthur was confirmed by the House of Lords, he was to present himself to the Emperor to give his Oath of Fealty.

The flight to Aurora would take four days—HeiferAir did not have the fastest airships—so Arthur upgraded their fare to a First-Class Cabin for a considerable sum of cash, even for Labtierre Guilders. They went up the boarding escalator, reaching the main deck of the massive airship where the Senior Purser, an otter, took their tickets. Inside, they could see most of the crew were small mammals.

"Saves weight, sir," the purser said, used to the observation, then looking around. "The cows can be pretty cheap. Where is the rest of your luggage, sir?"

"Just these," Arthur said, indicating their two roll-on bags. "Do you have a shopping promenade?"

"On Deck 2, sir," the otter said. "But they don't open until 6 AM. This is Deck 3. Your cabin is on Deck 5, at the very front of the ship. Escalators are in the center of the ship. Enjoy your trip, sir."

They meandered to their cabin, Kasani leaning dreamily against Arthur. One entire wall of their suite was transparent, giving a magnificent view of Jarie. The bedroom and bathroom also shared this feature, and though the storm outside would lead one to believe the view wouldn't be enjoyable, the airship would be climbing above the clouds soon after departure.

Kasani felt as if she were in a dream. She had worked so hard for so long to reach this point that she didn't know where to go from here. She knew there would be challenges to face and problems to solve. She wondered if she would be equal to the tasks.

Arthur stood behind her, arms around her waist, both foxes looking out the clear wall into the night on the other side. They remained like that until the ship lurched as it departed from the launch tower, pushing her back against him. She felt his arousal grow against her buttocks and she became increasingly apprehensive, not feeling the least aroused herself. He felt her stiffen up in his arms.

"What's on your mind?" he whispered. She was hesitant to say anything, fearing his disappointment. He came around to face her, sitting down on the floor. He took her paw, guiding her to sit before him. "Rule Number One," he said, holding her paws in his. "We _always_ speak our minds to each other." She swallowed.

"I am afraid you will be disappointed," she whispered, looking down.

"Why would I be disappointed with you?" he asked, softly.

"I do not want to mate," she told him.

"Ever?" he said. The tone of his voice made her laugh.

"No, my husband," she said, smiling. "I'm just not... I cannot explain... I will not withhold my body if you need comfort."

"I'll be fine," he said, tenderly. "But let's make that's Rule Number Two for _next_ time: We don't withhold ourselves from each other if we really need comfort." He leaned over to kiss her, but she shied away without even meaning to.

"OooKay," he said, easing off. "What am I doing wrong?"

She felt panic rising up inside her. "I... just..." She looked at him, unable to say more. She couldn't understand what was happening to her. She could barely breathe! This should be the happiest moment of her life! Why was she so terrified?

"I'm beginning to worry," Arthur said with concern.

She tried to explain her feelings, but nothing came out from her open mouth. The warm look of compassion on Arthur's face made her own feelings worse. She got up and ran into the bedroom, throwing herself on the bed, crying in frustration.

' _What's wrong with you?_ ' she asked herself. _'You risked everything for this! Everything you wanted is in the other room!'_

 _I can't trust him!_

 _'Now you worry about that?'_ she scolded herself. _'You've manipulated his life for ten years to have him.'_

 _He's a philanderer!_

 _'Says the vixen who tried to seduce him.'_

 _He's been with so many others! How do I compare with that? He will find me boring and quaint._

 _'You were willing to give up everything for him just a few hours ago. What's changed?'_

 _He's not the same mammal I knew._

 _'You've changed yourself, pup,_ ' she thought, _'probably more than he. If you want to be honest, how much about him is different and how much is just knowing more about him than you used to?'_

She heard him approach, then felt him sit next to her, putting her thoughts on hold.

"Do you want to be alone," he asked, softly.

"No," she forced herself to say.

"It's overwhelming, isn't it?" he said, knowingly. "I can't imagine how it must feel to finally reap the harvest of _ten years_ ' effort. Now comes all the hindsight, the second-guessing, the doubting your objectives were adequate, the wondering of what's next."

"You make it sound like a mission," she said, quietly.

"Wasn't it?" he said. "You and Chia systematically tore my life apart to get me here."

"You make it sound so horrible," she sniffled.

"It is," he told her, frankly. "I did this for a living, remember?"

"Do you love me?" she asked, desperately.

" _Deep_ down? I really don't know," he said, honestly. "I know I will, given the chance. How about you? Have you finally realized the dream is not the reality?"

"I am so afraid," she confessed. "I _know_ there is much more to you than I knew back then. I love my memories of you so much, and it has been so wonderful these past hours, that I know it cannot last. I am afraid I may have completely misjudged you and you will betray me."

"Wow. That bad," he said. "Why does Chia think it will be easier just because we know so much about each other? How do regular couples do this?"

Kasani laughed. "I do not know," she said. "Perhaps it is easier if you do not have expectations about the other. But I never could handle the idea of letting some stranger… inside me."

"Yeah," he said. "Even the Zootopian club scene allows for introductions first."

Kasani sighed. "I am terrified you will get bored with me," she whispered. "I am inexperienced in the ways of love; I do not know how to please a male."

Arthur laughed. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "'Inexperienced in the ways of love?' That has to be the corniest thing I have ever heard." She looked at him sharply. He shook his head and sighed. "You are _without a doubt_ the most beautiful creature I have _ever_ had the good fortune to be with. There is _no one_ I would rather be with, Kasani. _That's_ why I scented that contract. Someone like you only happens once in a lifetime—if that."

"Are you just trying to seduce me?" she asked, suspiciously.

"I thought I didn't have to," he said, slyly. "Rule Number Two, remember?"

She giggled. "I suppose," she said, then looked at him, searchingly. "Why were you so unfaithful to Candace?"

"Ouch," he said, wincing. "Which answer do you want?"

"The one in your heart," she whispered. He didn't answer right away.

"I thought it would 'ease the pain'," he said with a sigh. "And it did, most of the time."

"Then why did you not come to _me_?" she asked, wistfully. "I wanted you _so_ much."

"You had your whole life ahead of you," he told her. "You didn't need an affair with a married mammal bogging you down."

"Maybe we could have both been happier," she posed.

"No," he told her. "I was an arrogant prig." He laughed. "Even more than now. At least, over the last couple of years, I've really wanted a stable home—never mind I have no idea how to make that happen. Of course, Tonya came along, mucking that all up."

"She was no good for you," Kasani said, distastefully. "She wasn't good for anyone."

"You knew her?" Arthur asked, surprised.

"She was my older half-sister," she told him. Arthur stared, open-mouthed. "I know about your relationship with her, and that you killed her. But there was nothing between us, my husband. Nothing good."

"She could be very spiteful," Kasani said. "My mother had Tonya first, from her long-standing affair with Tonya's father. When my father was arrested during the Purge twenty years ago, Tonya's father vouched for my mother, sparing her life and claiming Tonya as proof of their relationship. Her lover was my uncle, married to my father's sister, who was also arrested during the Purge." She took a deep breath.

"I was only four," she said, "but as the only kit from my father, I inherited the right to claim father's title and estate. Mother was disgraced by the affair and left penniless, but my uncle married her after she renounced the family and left me in care of the State rather than face the slave block as an accomplice to my father. My uncle was spared making that choice with his other kits by virtue of turning in my aunt to the Secret Police after father was arrested. My mother never visited me, nor gave any support to make my life any easier."

"Chia and I had been playmates up until the Purge because our mothers were close friends," she went on, "so, when I was old enough to train, her mother petitioned the Emperor for me as Chia's bodyguard and companion. After I was living in the Palace, Tonya would ridicule me whenever we crossed paths, telling me how good my mother was, and how terrible I must have been that mother did not want to keep me, nor wanted to visit me. It would be worse if we were in public; then she would call me a traitorous slave. It sounds like a video drama, I know. As I said, there was no love lost between us."

"Still…"

"Was it done in cold blood?" she asked.

"Not exactly," he said. "After Octavio told me not to trust her, I became extremely cautious. I held on to my hopes like an idiot, but there were too many loose ends for me to just go on as before—it's one thing to trust a spy, quite another to trust a triple agent. She was actually very careless, while I was very stupid until rudely woken up by one of the professors she had also been sleeping with." He sighed.

"Tonya and I were ready to leave that last day," he said, sounding far away. "We spent that whole afternoon in bed, and I pretended to nod off while she went to shower before we headed off to the aerodrome. She came dancing out of the shower, put her gun against my head, and pulled the trigger." He sighed again. "She should have checked her gun in the bathroom; that morning, I had removed the cartridge she kept in the chamber." He sniffed. "That's when I shot her."

Kasani sat up, looking into his teary eyes. "You loved her, didn't you?" she asked.

"Not so much that I would let her kill me," he said. She raised herself up to kiss him.

"I am glad," she said. "Now _I_ can have you."

"I'm just an old fox with bad habits," he told her. "You could do much better."

"I do not want to do better," she said, certain of herself now. "I want _you_."

"Well," he said. "You _are_ stuck with me now, you know." She moved onto his lap, straddling him.

" _My fox_ ," she whispered, kissing him hungrily. She felt his arousal grow once more.

" _Please_ tell me you want to mate," he whispered hotly in her ear. She hurriedly undid his pants, then pulled her panties to one side so he could enter her. They both groaned with pleasure as he slid easily inside her this time. His paw slipped under her dress, grasping the base of her tail right against her buttocks with three fingers, squeezing and twisting _just_ _so_.

Her body stiffened, ecstasy running deliciously up her spine, lighting up her face with surprise. She slumped against his chest, her head on his shoulder, whining softly in pleasure. As soon as her muscles relaxed, he repeated the move bringing out a louder moan.

Arthur sat still but for his paw, which grasped her tail again and again in that particular fashion, finding Kasani's rhythm. She nipped his neck and shoulder, trembling against him, vindication bubbling up in her mind, knowing some younger tod would never be able to play her body so masterfully. She completely surrendered to his touch, basking sensuously under his expert control. He timed her movements perfectly, his knot swelling at just the right time so her muscles would clamp down to bring his release and send her tumbling off the cliff with him. She couldn't hold back her howls.

Pleasure receding, she nuzzled him fiercely, scenting him again. Her first time with him had been a mixture of pleasure and mostly pain, with her fragile emotions making the only difference between an enjoyable experience and an unforgettable disappointment. This time there was only pleasure, reinforcing her emotions that had been running frayed with the stress of Arthur's extraction. His knot binding them together felt reassuring and she mischievously clamped her strong dancer's muscles around it. Arthur yipped, his body tensing as she felt him quivering with another release.

" _I do not know how to please a male_ , she says," Arthur groaned soon.

"What you did with my tail..." she pleaded.

"You liked that?" he said, playfully. She kissed him, then moaned as his paw took liberty with her tail again, not stopping until she was howling a second time.

"I love you," she panted. He held her tightly, nuzzling her cheeks but said nothing. She knew he had feelings for her; she only hoped his feelings would match hers in time since they did have a better start than most Baratean couples as far as she was concerned. She held on to him possessively, rubbing his back and leaning her head on his shoulder, quietly enjoying the feeling of _her fox_ inside her.

His knot receded and she stood up to undress, then climbed into the bed while Arthur took his clothes of as well. She was puzzled when he headed towards the bathroom.

"I'm going to take a shower," he explained.

"Have I displeased you?" she asked worriedly.

"No," he said, quickly coming over to her. "I'm just going to wash up."

"My scent on you is distasteful," she said with disappointment, looking down in shame.

"No!" he denied. "I love how you smell." She looked up timidly.

"Please, lie down with me, then," she whispered. He climbed in bed next to her, using the remote on the nightstand to turn the lights off.

"I am not attractive," she whispered, sadly.

"What?"

"It is my left eye," she said, fatalistically. "I know it is slightly larger than the other one."

"No!" he said. "Your eyes are amazing." He turned on the baseboard lights to see her looking shyly at him.

"Do you truly think so?" she asked. He kissed her.

"Yes," he said. "You are beautiful, Kasani." She sighed contentedly, snuggling up against his chest, folding her leg over his. The scent of sex from under the covers was strong and she was wet all the way down her thighs from their mating, which Arthur found exotic—and extremely erotic.

Kasani smiled, feeling Arthur's arousal grow again. She gracefully rolled out of the covers, coming onto all fours and raising her tail for him to mount her in the traditional way of foxes.

They mated deliberately slow, enjoying each other at a deeper level, where sex was but a means of bringing them as close together as possible. There were no heated cries of passion, no rushing to jump off the cliff, and when they eventually rolled down the peak, it was excruciatingly pleasurable and drawn out. She collapsed breathlessly to her stomach, his knot pulling him on top of her. He rolled down next to her, spooning her, and she nestled comfortably against him, quickly drifting off to sleep, knowing without a doubt she had her mate at last.

Arthur sighed, listening to the slowing sound of her breathing, his arms around her, drifting off to sleep as well. He had never gone to sleep with a female knotted to him before. He was sure his previous lovers would never have let him live that down. With Kasani, though, everything was different; this was how she _wanted_ to be with him.

And, for the first time ever, the most important thing in Arthur's life was no longer himself.

 _Dammit_.

* * *

 _12:21 AM_

"I _miss_ you, Reggie," Elena sing-sang to her fox. The tod sat legs crossed on the floor, naked as she, his back against the bed, typing and swiping at Arthur's CarrotBook.

The doe had been trying to get his attention away from the computer and back to her for over an hour. She wasn't angry, though; she understood his mindset, being the same way herself when there was something interesting or necessary to do. She just didn't have anything like that at the moment.

She was too wound up to sleep. She was excited from the day's full events, from playing spy, to meeting Reggie, to cracking the hardware security on the CarrotBook to learning she could keep her oh, so hot fox and, when _she_ was ready, breed with him, too! Every time she thought about the 'breeding' part she felt herself melting between her legs.

She was a very affectionate bunny who loved being aroused, another fact that intimidated bucks away after a while. She had more drive than most of the ones she knew. That's why she loved this part of a relationship, when all was new, and the males would jump her at the drop of a hat before they realized this was how she always was.

She was also high that her mom had let Reggie stay the night: Bonnie usually had a midnight curfew for 'guests'. She hadn't told her daughter how pleased she was with Reggie, nor about his commitment to their relationship.

Elena peeked over the tod's shoulder at the screen. He was a fast reader, but she noticed he wasn't a detailed reader, only delving into the full text when something particular caught his attention. Elena was not as fast, but she didn't skim, either.

He opened one file that turned out to be a drawing, and he was about to dismiss it when Elena caught something unusual.

"Hold it there, sweetie," she said. "That's a CPLD in the schematic. Is this Arthur fellow an engineer?"

"Business Major," Reggie said. "Why?"

"This isn't something for amateurs," she said. "These are _serious_ electronics."

"There are other schematics," he told her. "Wanna take a peek?"

She playfully slid down his chest, making sure her behind ended up in his muzzle. He chuckled, licking her on the way down. She took the CarrotBook from his paws and slid all the way down to the floor on her stomach.

She grabbed a pillow from a nearby pile and placed it folded in half under her chest. Thus propped up, she began examining the schematic, her legs spread apart enticingly, folding back up at the knees.

Now that _he_ had nothing to do, Reggie quickly noticed her scent and saw how wet she was, immediately becoming aroused himself. Elena's excellent hearing picked up his tiny whine of excitement. She raised her tail invitingly while zooming the image on the screen.

"Come to yoah bunny, you handsome fox," she drawled. "She's bin a waitin' foah yah, dahlin. She's got what yoah needin'."

The tod groomed her fluffy tail, earning a purr from the doe, then crawled his way on top of her. Her ears folded over his neck as he entered her, both of them groaning with pleasure.

"We can wait if you're busy," Reggie said, gently rocking against her tail. She giggled, switching between drawings.

"I'm a female," she purred. " _I_ can _multitask_."

"Does _this task_ get priority?" he said, caressing her hips. She purred, busily scrolling through drawings and pulling up data sheets from the 'net. Reggie focused on the pretty doe he'd decided to go steady with—marriage hadn't reached into his conscious mind yet. Just wait until his friends at the office got a look at her.

He'd been popular among the males for a while after his weekend with Skye, though he wasn't one to brag... very much. That he and Skye had ended up as 'only friends' had also made him the butt of many jokes. He did get some mileage out of it with the females, though, leading to a string of short relationships, all canines. They had all wanted more attention than he could give, but he understood that and had ended on good terms with all of them.

Elena was _perfect_. From the curve of her hips to the intricate ways her mind approached problems. He found it extremely sexy how focused she was on the computer yet still gave enough attention to him that they could mate without that mechanical feel you get when a partner just wants to mate to shut you up. Reggie had ample experience with that. On _both_ sides of the line, he was ashamed to admit.

Elena didn't push. Too much. And she pushed him in a way that didn't bring out resentment. Not that one day in a relationship would tell him how a lifetime would be. But they communicated better than he had with anyone else he had ever known.

Maybe it was a bunny thing. And she _was_ a _bunny_! Every male schoolkit's fantasy. Which he thought was odd, but, there you have it. Maybe because they were _so_ cute? He realized that she had not made a sound other than purring. The occasional moan followed whenever she switched between drawings.

He watched her reflection on the screen, seeing the intense look of concentration on her face softened by a mischievous smile of pleasure that told him she really was paying some attention to him. He straightened his posture so he could look down and see himself taking her.

"You lahk what you see, gorgeous?" she said, watching his reflection on the screen. He answered by pulling her tightly against him as his knot swelled. He squeezed and pushed her tail in the way she taught him, watching her look of concentration disappear into one of pleasure while their rollercoaster rolled over the last peak to finish its ride.

Their trembling subsided and Elena sighed loudly with satisfaction. "I needed that _soo_ bad," she purred.

"You were awfully quiet," Reggie said, laying down next to her. "I almost thought I was doing something wrong."

"You were _fantastic_ , sweetie," she said, caressing his face. "You won't break it like that, will you?" she said, looking down to their joined privates.

"It's very versatile," he told her, sagely. She slapped him, playfully. "Did you find anything interesting?"

"Well," she said, "without seeing the code matrix, it's hard to say exactly what the operating sequence is, but I know what the different parts do. It just seems a CPLD like this one is overkill. I looked it up; they cost over ten grand each, and the design uses three of them."

"Why three?" he asked.

"There are three main parts: A number generator, a number concentrator, and a diffuser. There are interface circuits for hundreds of sensors and actuators, power systems, even a separate microprocessor for onboard diagnostics and, probably, supervisory control. It's really sophisticated."

"If they have a microprocessor, why the CPLDs?" he asked, feeling shy. "I mostly focused on software."

"Easier to access I/O with the CPLD," she said. "It's also much faster than a microprocessor, but almost no software capabilities."

"How much faster?"

"More than a thousand times," she said. "There is basically no delay between reading an input, processing it, then writing to an output. It's like simultaneous reaction to events. You just have very limited reactions you can program."

"Like when to pulse a spinning motor?" he said. "That was my Senior project in College: Drone smart-motor control."

"Yeah," she said. "Mine was fuel-cell charging from solar panels. But this is something orders of magnitude faster and more complex. We're talking picosecond reaction times here, not millisecond."

"Can you show me?" he asked. She giggled.

"Can you stretch it this far?" she asked. He nipped her ears playfully, looking over her shoulder at the screen. "That's the number generator circuit." Reggie frowned.

"That's not a 'number' symbol," he said. "That's a superscript zero, not a lower-case 'O'."

"Typ-o," she said. Reggie's eyes lit up with alarm.

"Show me the rest," he said, fear creeping into his voice. She began to be concerned, but not enough to panic. She showed him the other schematics.

"No, no, no," he mumbled over and over as he looked at the schematics.

"You're scaring me, Reggie," she said. "What's wrong, honey?"

"We need to find Jack and Skye," he said. "Now."

"Do you want me to print this out?" she asked. His eyes almost went wild.

"No!" he said, looking around suspiciously, which would have made her laugh under other circumstances. "Please, don't _ever_ talk about this to anyone else."

"Reggie," she said, scared. "What is this thing?"

The tod made (what he thought at the time, but really wasn't) a snap decision to trust her. "N-superscript-zero is the symbol for a Neutron," he explained. "We have a control circuit for a _Neutron_ Generator, a _Neutron_ Concentrator. And this isn't a 'diffuser'. It's a 'D Fuser'. 'D' is the symbol for Deuterium." She looked at him blankly.

"This is the control circuit for a fusion device," he said, worriedly.

"The fabled _free energy_ _source_ we read about in tech magazines all the time?" she asked. "That's fantastic!" Reggie whined.

"Elena," he said, forcibly calm. "You're the hardware geek between us. What's the biggest challenge to fusion power?"

"We don't have the technology to contain the reaction," she said immediately. Her eyes got big. "There are no controls for a containment system! Nor for an energy harvesting system!"

"This is for a fusion bomb," Reggie completed.

* * *

 _12:52 AM_

Matilda looked down at the printout Leone 'carelessly' let slip onto her desk, reading the paper without picking it up. She glanced up at the lion, who nodded comprehendingly and left, carrying her empty coffee mug. He came back a few minutes later, bringing back a full mug of coffee and a pastry-sandwich box, placing them on her desk.

Five of the six members of the response team came into the bullpen, talking excitedly with each other about the latest pawball match scores. They casually fell out of the group one by one, each stopping next to a deskbound mammal to engage in more detailed debate over the game. Leone had taken up conversation with another mammal, leaving Matilda to walk over to the last one, an older deer, and ask about her new boyfriend.

The response team members suddenly grabbed and pawcuffed their mammals, Leone doing the same. The deer glanced at the commotion and reached for a concealed gun in her dress, only to come face-to-face with Matilda's own weapon, which had been inside the ewe's sandwich box.

"Make my night, Marcy," Matilda said in disgust. "I can't believe I went on double-dates with you."

The response team gagged and hooded all the prisoners—which included the sixth member of the response team—and took them away. They were now on a tight schedule for making 'house calls' to round up a few others. All would be kept in isolation until they could be interrogated. Matilda went back to her desk, picked up her phone, and sent a message to Jack. She smiled.

 _'Yeah,'_ she thought confidently. _'Jack's right. I can handle Ops.'_

* * *

 _1:12 AM_

Kataiahs was finishing outlining his findings about Night Howlers when Jack's phone chimed for a secure message. The rabbit was going to ignore it, but a second chime sounded right after the first, making him dig out the phone.

 _Message from: Matilda, 01:13 AM:_

 _Woody-22 registered to Patricia Packland. Office sanitized. You're welcome._

"Patricia?" he said aloud. Skye looked at his phone. "The weapon used to kill that Baratean vixen belongs to Patricia Packland," he told her.

"Maybe she found out Arthur was sleeping with her?" Skye theorized. Jack brought the others up to speed on the Ryzhaya investigation, including that all known associates of Patricia had been rounded up in the Zootopia Field Office for questioning.

Kataiahs looked troubled. "There is more to Miss Ryzhaya's murder than you know," he said while Jack brought up the second message on his phone.

 _Message from: Reggie, 01:12 AM:_

 _Fifth Protocol violation. Where U?_

"BLOODY HELL!"

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **There might be some outcry concerning Arthur.** **He still has an important role in the story, so I decided to give him a loyal partner who really loves him and see how he does. Will he embrace his new start, or will he just return to his old patterns?**

 **The night is still young...**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	33. Revelations, Part Two

**Author's Note:**

 **Over 6000 views! Thanks!**

 **Sorry this took so long. Real life caught with me, big time.**

 **This one is a little short. Decided to trim it, get it out, and shift some stuff into the next chapter.**

 **I hope you enjoy this installment:**

* * *

 _1:20 AM_

Matilda was worried.

She read the text on her phone again, frowning.

 _Message from: Jack, 01:18 AM:_

 _Be a dear and mop up the rest. Have serious trouble on this end._ _I'll apologize to the Directors later._

She worried about what Jack would consider 'serious trouble' compared to an active enemy network operating within the Agency. She had at least one bad apple in her bunch with Marcy. Who knew how many in the entire Agency? Patricia Packland was a very popular and persuasive mammal who Matilda was certain had also been considered for Arthur's vacant post. Her relationship with the disgraced Arthur is what likely disqualified the wolfess from the position. Still, Patricia had a clique within the Agency that Marcy's pulling out a gun had brought under heavy suspicion of duplicity.

Getting bagged for random interrogations was a regular occurrence for Zootopia Field Office personnel. It was the price they paid for the autonomy to conduct independent operations with minimal supervision. It was also a volunteer assignment with no shame for switching posts later on. The dedicated mammals who served there had low turnover, and typically ended up in higher positions after leaving.

Matilda now had to decide whether to trust her compiled list of Patricia's known associates to be complete. She frowned. The decision was easy. She texted her soon-to-be-very-regular lover:

 _Shaved my tail tonight. Thinking of you._

Within a minute, her phone rang secure.

 _"I was hoping to do that personally,"_ Marcus said.

"There's still a lot left," she said, sweetly. "I could use your touch with it."

 _"I got the time, Matty,"_ he told her.

"I got the equipment," she said, completing their 'Help! I'm safe, let's talk' passphrases.

Marcus was the head of the ZBI's counter-intelligence division, located in Plainsville. They had met at a conference last year and hit it off right away, both previously divorced from civilian partners and now looking for a serious relationship with someone who knew the ins and outs of federal law/security enforcement.

 _"And here I was hoping to have a nice video chat with you,"_ he said, wistfully.

"That could still be arranged, big guy," she told him. "But I need to get home, first."

 _"Now we're talking,"_ he said. _"How do I make that happen?"_

Matilda explained about Patricia and their office 'sweep.'

 _"You know I can't do that, Matty,"_ he said. _"You independent players are a special case. **I** need more than suspicion to invade mammals' homes and start carting them off."_

"We have written authorization from the Mayor to clean house," she told him. "And the evidence against Patricia came from Chief Bogo. That should be at least enough for a CI sweep."

 _"Is this linked to Director Skye's case, by any chance?"_ he asked, suspiciously.

"She's the one who popped the lid open on this mess," Matilda told him. "We believe this all ties to the WildeHopps disappearance."

Marcus whistled, then grunted. _"The WildeHopps 'disappearance', eh?"_ he said, picking up her hint.

"Quite the mess, isn't it?" she said. "I can't wait for you to _debrief_ me." He chuckled.

 _"Just send me what you have, Matty. I can hold them for 96 hours, no sweat,"_ he said. _"I'll warm up my teams, but we can't move without those documents. Get me your KA list ASAP so I can cross-reference them before we start. And don't be worrying about Patricia Packland; from what you've told me, we have enough to bring her in, regardless of the others. I'll call Bogo and get the case file. He should be happy enough after he gets over being woken up in the middle of the night; ZPD doesn't have jurisdiction in Bunnyburrow."_

Matilda blew a kiss into the phone. "I knew you could help me out with this," she said.

 _"Inter-Agency cooperation,"_ he told her.

"Just wait until I get there next week," she said, sultrily.

 _"Looking forward to cooperating on a daily basis,"_ he said, huskily, then ended the call. Matilda took a few moments to organize her desk and forwarded all the documentation to Marcus via email. Time to go home for the night. She had a video call to prepare for.

* * *

 _1:21 AM_

The miniature fiber-optic probe snaked under the door, creeping along the carpeted floor of the hotel room. The lights were on, the TV was playing a movie, and an open suitcase was in the corner. The wolf operator on the other side of door skillfully guided the probe in search of the room's occupant to no avail. He shook his head at Ramstein.

The ram made a judgement call to enter the room anyway. The black-garbed team bypassed the electronic lock, bursting into the room and fanning out to cover all possible hiding places.

"Clear!" came a shout from inside when no sign of Arthur Foxworth was found. Ramstein entered, looking over the room sullenly. Now he would have to explain to Jack how the fox had managed to disappear. If he could figure it out.

* * *

 _1:22 AM_

Chia couldn't sleep. She lay awake at the edge of the furball of her sister wives and Octavio. She smiled; their husband lay at the center, blissfully exhausted after a long day. After her sisters had enjoyed their fill of the white wolf, he had simply been too exhausted for Chia to allow him to service her.

She fondly reviewed their antics, her paws drifting down between her legs and she soon was panting softly, then falling off quietly into pleasure, cuddling against Palila's warm fur. She took a deep breath, sighing contentedly, feeling much more relaxed now, but still sleep would not come. Perhaps her medication needed adjusting again?

No. She didn't have the overwhelming paranoia or blind rage that accompanied bad or missing meds. It had taken her years to control her condition, and that only possible with Kasani's help smuggling medications into the palace. The Royal Family didn't seem to care that one of their own needed help—at least not if it was Chia.

She saw Alexandra watching in her direction with concern from the bed. The doe's eyes couldn't see in the darkened room, but her sensitive ears must have picked up Chia's restlessness. Chia blushed. Those ears _must_ have picked up more than... restlessness.

She quietly made her way onto the bed.

"You should be sleeping, Alexandra," she whispered. "We have a long day ahead."

"I am only a passenger, Mother," she whispered back. "You need your rest more than I."

"It must be strange," Chia said. "We are close to the same age, yet to have me as your mother."

"It is our way," Alexandra said. "You have been kind and caring, just like any good mother. I am sure you will be fantastic when your kits are born. They will be lucky to have you and Father."

"You are so confident," Chia said, enviously, then sighed. "You do not worry at all about the consequences of my lord's actions."

"I heard him tell Mother you had a plan," the doe said. "I admit I was a bit concerned when we first met; you _are_ young, which I did not expect. Your reputation lends itself to someone older, though I begin to realize reputation does not always match the mammal."

"I am flattered by your confidence," Chia said. "But we play a risky gambit that could easily fail."

"Why make such a bold move, then, Mother?" Alexandra asked. "Surely you are patient enough to wait your turn on the Throne."

"There will not _be_ a Throne soon," Chia said, "the way the Pack has been running the Empire into the ground. It is kept together solely by fear of the Secret Police. Slaves outnumber freemammals twenty-to-one, and that number is growing, with nothing for them to do but make _more_ slaves. We stand at the brink of war with our neighbors from mere apathy. To the Pack, it is better to fight a war than solve the underlying problems of our nation, but the Empire is woefully unprepared for a conflict. There are simply not enough troops to fight a modern war, nor can we afford to lose those we have. We would have to resort to slave troops, who will likely run away or even turn against us."

"Are things truly so bad?" Alexandra asked, shocked.

"Perhaps worse, Alexandra," Chia told her. "The mineral deposits along the southern border offer quick wealth to the nation that controls them. We simply cannot stop them if either Northmarsh or Nines decides to annex the area; they only restrain themselves because each fears the other. This is what your father has been working on: A weapon to deter them both. Now that he has it, the Emperor is afraid of him."

"But, why?" Alexandra said, shocked. "The one thing even his naysayers profess is Father's loyalty to the Empire."

" _My_ father is the disloyal one," Chia said, bitterly. "But it is better for you not to know certain things, as yet. Should we survive the next few days, you _will_ need to know, and I shall reveal them to you."

"Are we in such danger?" Alexandra asked. "The Emperor is your _father_."

"You and Abigail are safe," Chia told the bunny. "Abigail has the protection of the Blindfold." Alexandra sighed.

"Mother will not disavow you," she said, sadly. "She has never been this happy in her life; she was not meant to be alone. I am so grateful to you for giving her a chance to be part of this Family."

Chia sighed. "This does not comfort me, Alexandra," she said. "I had hoped at least someone would be safe if we failed."

"Just what are you planning, Mother?" the doe asked, concerned. "If I may be so bold."

Chia smiled. "Yes," she said. "You are the outspoken one, aren't you? That is good. A Crown Princess should always speak her mind—within reason, of course."

"Are you planning to overthrow the Emperor?" Alexandra said in disbelief.

"Oh, goodness, no," Chia told her. "I would never do such a thing. I simply intend to put my Father on notice the Pack's days of ruination over the Empire are over."

Alexandra looked doubtful. "And you think they will simply fade into the forest?" she said. Chia giggled.

"Oh, I hope not," she said, grimly. "That's why your father is coming with us."

* * *

 _1:23 AM_

Kataiahs and Jack stood staring at each other.

"Absolutely not," the lynx said, firmly.

"We need Reggie," Jack repeated, hating himself for saying it, though he knew it was only because of that picture of Cynthia. Jack was... _jealous_.

"It is too dangerous," Kataiahs insisted. "Knowing about me is a serious risk to one's life. There are parties in the world who truly do not like me."

"Imagine that," Nick mumbled. Judy's ear slapped him.

"He's the one who developed the signal-scrambling algorithm we use," Skye said.

"Oh, bollocks," Kataiahs said, giving in; he really could use the geeky fox, he knew. Jack sent a text, telling Reggie where to find them. A few minutes later, Elena led Reggie into the room.

Kataiahs would have exploded in anger at the sight of the doe but for Trina, who had led him back to his seat and settled on his lap.

Reggie caught the lynx's glare. "W-what?" he said, confused, then looked at Jack. "Should we be talking here?"

"Most assuredly, Mr. Todwell," the lynx said. "Please, do speak. We might as well broadcast the entire meeting." Trina giggled, snuggling against his chest. The lynx's paws stroked her back, her warm presence calming him down.

"What did you find?" Jack asked. Reggie seemed to squirm.

"Well," he said. "You see, I was relaxing after a _wonderful_ time with Elena, you know, right after she..." His face had a silly grin on it, which faded slowly under the doe's critical gaze, her ears bent in annoyance. His muzzle snapped shut, then he cleared his throat. "Hahummm. At any rate," he continued. "I was going through Arthur's work files and came across a folder named 'Red Vixen' in his Operations directory, which struck me as too much of a coincidence, since it's also his password." Judy shook her head.

"Actually," she said, "that's very typical in these sorts of cases. A perp's conscience _wants_ them to get caught, unconsciously making them leave clues where they can be found. Anything with that name is probably tied to the case."

"That's great!" Reggie said, enthusiastically. "I don't have to do this manually, file by file. I can do a global search for that right off the root directory, even include a text-content search, and auto-check for encrypted files with that password! This should save us loads... of... ti... me." Everyone was staring at him. His ears went flat.

Elena patted his paw. "We found some schematics on the drive," she said, "that Reggie believes are the controls for a fusion bomb." The doe explained briefly about what they had found and why they concluded as they did, though the others didn't understand most of the technical jargon.

"You are correct, Miss Hopps," Kataiahs said, drawing everyone's attention. "Miss Ryzhaya came to Zootopia expressly to develop such a device, and she succeeded ever so brilliantly." He looked at Judy and Nick. "Which brings us back to that rainy night we first met."

Nick came to the edge of his seat, Judy's paws stroking his leg to keep him calm. The lynx gave a sigh.

"What Miss Ryzhaya did," he told them, "was leap over a hundred years of research with her work, developing what is known as a Single-Stage Thermonuclear device. Which is bad enough by itself, but also has an energy release pattern consistent with the high-yield plasma warheads used in the AI wars." He looked at Elena and Reggie, who were definitely lost, not having viewed the memorygrams. "Just bear with us a little longer," he told them. "The we shall talk some more about how much you truly wish to know."

"The dormant warbots would, without a doubt, detect the characteristic seismic pattern from the detonation of such a device," he continued, "defaulting to their basic instruction set: Search and destroy all organic life."

"How do you know they're still active?" Skye asked. "I mean, how long has it been?"

"About ten thousand years," Kataiahs told her. "Give or take a couple of centuries."

"Ten _thousand_ years?" Jack said.

"Yes, Mr. Savage," the lynx said, calmly. "I have been watching over Mammaldom for ten thousand years."

"No way, dude!" Reggie exclaimed. "You don't look a day over forty!"

Kataiahs bowed his head. "One of my main tasks has been guiding scientific progress along lines that will not trigger the warbots' alarm thresholds. Things like artificial seismic patterns, atmospheric pollution gases, electromagnetic emissions, nanite technology, and such. The lack of significant radioactives and fossil fuel deposits caused by the Terra Nova directive has helped significantly. Mammalian society has had to develop much differently than human." Reggie opened his mouth to say something, but Elena elbowed him.

Nick looked sharply at the lynx. " _You_ took the device," he said. "That's what you were carrying."

"Carrying?" Judy said, surprised. "You never mentioned anything about him carrying something."

Nick's ears dropped. "I was... well..." She slapped him, half seriously.

"You were embarrassed," she chided. "You... Ughh! _I_ should shoot you!"

"I am sure he meant well," Kataiahs said. "It is hard for a male to lose face in front of his mate."

"I don't want that on his gravestone!" she cried. Nick was feeling very small, ears completely flat on his head, avoiding Judy's gaze. She hopped on his lap, nuzzling him. "Don't you _ever_..." she cried. He hugged her tight, nuzzling her head.

Elena looked at the lynx. "You have both of them?"

Kataiahs' head spun towards the doe. "Both of them?"

Elena nodded. "There were two sets of schematics," she said. "One had a compact VLF receiver circuit, for something simple, like a garage door signal."

Kataiahs was speechless, shaking his head.

"How big are the bloody things?" Jack asked.

"Roll-along travel bag," Nick said.

"Bloody hell!" Jack said, shaking his head. "Arthur's suitcase! He wouldn't take his eyes off the bloody thing the whole time he was talking. How did he bloody get it through Security?"

"Miss Rizhaya's greatest contribution was the monomer used on the case itself," Kataiahs said. "It acts, among other things, as a channeled radiation reflector."

"English, please," Nick said.

"It bends high-energy radiation around it," the lynx explained. "It is invisible to X-rays."

Jack's phone rang. He smiled, seeing who it was. "Tell me the good news," he said to Ramstein, setting the device to speakerphone There was a brief silence.

 _"Sorry, Boss,"_ the ram said. _"He's not here. We had the place under tight surveillance since he checked in this afternoon—he just vanished."_

Jack closed his eyes, his breath coming out in a huff. "We need to find him, NOW," he said. "Take the place apart if you have to. Arthur is PEN1. Are you alone?" The sound of a door closing came through the speaker.

 _"Yeah, Boss,"_ Ramstein confirmed, a little anxious.

"Patricia Packland is PEN2," Jack told him.

 _"Shit, boss!"_ the ram whispered, alarmed. _"These are all local boys here!"_

"Matty is arranging cleanup," the buck said. "Get home ASAP. We're going to need a hunting party."

Ramstein was taken aback by the order to gather a hit squad. _"We have clearance for that?"_ he asked, within his rights.

"Director's discretion," Jack told him, grimly. "We have a Fifth Protocol violation."

 _"And the hits keep coming,"_ the ram said. _"Guess I should cancel my date for tomorrow."_

"Better the whole week," Jack agreed. "We'll make it up to you." The ram chuckled.

 _"Heard that one, before, Boss,"_ he laughed.

"When this is over," Jack said, "the whole office gets a week off." He disconnected the call.

"Something is not right," Skye said. "I understand Arthur running, but I don't understand Patricia staying still. We know they were in a relationship from what you told me, Jack. Why run without her?"

Jack shook his head. "We'll find out when we question her," he said. "He's obviously going to Baratea. We just have to stop him."

"A motivated, trained, resourceful operator with more than a 6-hour head start?" Judy said, skeptically. She shook her head. "He's long gone."

Jack and Skye both looked down, knowing that was true.

"My resources in the North are limited, at best," Kataiahs said with a frown. "But we need to recover that weapon. If it is detonated... Mammaldom does not have the capability of stopping a rampaging warbot."

"Don't we need to tell someone about this?" Nick said. "This definitely sounds above our paygrade."

"We can tell Lionheart," Judy said. "He's pretty reasonable."

Skye shook her head. "If we tell him about this... No. We have to do this ourselves."

"I don't get it," Nick said with a sigh. "This is huge! We can't just back-pocket it."

"Mr. WildeHopps," Kataiahs said. "Zootopia is not a nation. It is an international trust that exists at the whim of the Council of Mammals, with extreme oversights by the various members. Bunnyburrow, Mountainview, and Plainsville were created specifically as a buffer zone from the rest of Mammaldom. Gengris Bun agreed to dissolve his Empire for this purpose, creating the nations in the Southern part of the continent. Those were the terms of the Zootopia Accords in order for Baratea to send the troops needed to finally defeat Aptila the Hound. Baratea wanted assurances Zootopia would not be used by the Prey-controlled nations of the south to develop technology to be used against them in a new Predation War."

"What does _any_ of that to do with keeping the elected authorities in the dark?" Nick complained.

Kataiahs motioned the tod to relax. "The Zootopia Accords has a provision for the dissolution of Zootopia in case technology development is uncovered taking place without the approval of the Council of Mammals," he said. "Should that happen, Zootopia is to be split up and divided between the member nations of the Council of Mammals. There is already much tension because of the rise of the Commonwealth, and while there is nothing that can legally stop the Commonwealth from existing, nor stop the role Zootopia is granted within it, the Council of Mammals does have the authority to disband Zootopia and leave the area designated for its existence in the condition it was at the time the accords were signed."

"Whaaaa?" Nick's head was spinning, trying to understand all that.

"Mr. WildeHopps," Kataiahs told him, "if the Council of Mammals decrees it, Zootopia would be levelled and returned to a pristine forest."

"That's insane!" Nick said. "It would mean war."

"One scenario," Kataiahs affirmed, "is the Commonwealth deciding to keep Zootopia intact while the rest of Mammaldom unites to destroy it. As strong as the Commonwealth is, they cannot defeat a united effort by the rest of Mammaldom. Worst-case scenario, the Commonwealth _and its allies_ form one block against the rest, and the entire world becomes a battleground. Commotion on that scale would wake the warbots, wiping the world clean of organic life."

"That's why we need to tell someone about this!" Nick insisted. Kataiahs sighed.

"Once technology rose to the point where weapons capable of mass destruction were theorized," the lynx continued, despite the tod's words, "the Council of Mammals banned their research under threat of war."

"With your determined prodding, 'Professor Felinestein,'" Jack needled.

"Yes," Kataiahs admitted, "it was. Safeguards were put in place not to interfere with peaceful research. Six protocols that would be enforced by the nations of Mammaldom by threat of war. The Fifth Protocol dictates no research into high-energy physics with weapon applications may take place without prior open disclosure to the full Council of Mammals, subject to a veto, and, even if approved, under full Council oversight. Production of such a device is to be considered an open declaration of war against the nations of Mammaldom, to be met with swift, decisive retribution."

While Nick was trying to absorb the information, Judy took up his cause. "We should still tell Lionheart," she said. "The Barateans—"

"Did nothing wrong, Mrs. WildeHopps," Kataiahs said, impatiently. "They will turn out to be the _heroes_ in this."

"It's bloody brilliant," Jack agreed. "Octavio outdid himself."

Skye shook her head. "It is too subtle for him," she disagreed. 'It has his flavor, for sure, but there are elements here that are simply not his."

Jack slapped his head. "Lady Chia!" he said. Skye looked doubtful.

"They hate each other," she said. "She's been stuck in the Female's Commons at the embassy for almost eighteen months while Octavio has been sleeping with every female that walks past him."

Judy, Nick, Elena and Reggie looked at each other, seeing none of them knew what the buck and vixen were talking about. Kataiahs noticed their confusion.

"Octavio Belyiklyk, Baratean High Lord of the Guard and Chia Marmortand, recently named Crown Princess of the Empire," he explained. "But Mrs. Savage's information is out of date; they no longer 'hate' each other." He brought out his phone and pulled up EweTube, showing them a video of a massive white wolf kneeling before a much smaller white wolfess with his head looking up while the teary-eyed wolfess scent-marked him.

"Why don't _you_ hate me like that?" Nick said to Judy. She pinched him.

"What do they pay _us_ for, again?" Reggie asked Jack.

"When was this taken?" asked Skye.

"Two days ago," Kataiahs said. "They did not really hate each other, you know. Baratean marriage customs are just very different than the South is used to. They start as a breeding contract and move on from there, with the parties usually entering the contract blind except for what is written on paper."

"That's all and fine," Nick said. "You still haven't said why we shouldn't tell Lionheart about this."

"If you tell the Mayor anything," Kataiahs said, "he will have to inform the Commonwealth Council in order to take any action. Once that happens, word _will_ leak out to the Council of Mammals, and those opposed to Zootopia will pounce at the opportunity to disband the Commonwealth, with the results I have already described."

"How can they get away with this?" Judy asked. The lynx smiled grimly.

"The device _was_ developed at the Plainsville Institute," he said, "but the actual facilities that were used are under direct Zootopian control. Likewise, the professors recruited by Miss Ryzhaya are all Zootopian citizens. The project was funded by the ZIA, authorized by Mr. Foxworth, another Zootopian citizen in a very high-level position. Miss Ryzhaya's death will seem a cover-up, a chance discovery of foul play by a Baratean Royal, who gave her life to get the device out of 'evil Zootopian paws' into the noble care of Baratea."

"That's ridiculous!" Elena said. "That's a pile of pooh."

"We're talking politics, Miss Hopps," Kataiahs said. "Not a court of Law. Mr. Foxworth can even be made to look like a hero for turning over the 'illegal terror weapon' to Baratea."

"Whatever the story may be," Jack said, "we effectively cannot reveal what we know. We will have to deal with it ourselves."

"Article 14?" Skye suggested. Jack nodded.

"Independent Security Operation," he said. "That gives us one month to disclose to a closed session of the Intelligence Council."

"I do not think we have that long," Kataiahs said. "The situation in Aurora is boiling over since Lady Chia became the heir. Baratean politics are complicated. The Emperor might not approve of her marriage, now that she is next in line."

Trina yawned. "I think we should all get some rest," she said, interrupting the discussion. "There is much to plan and do, and we need clear heads decide what."

"Sensible, as always," Kataiahs said with a smile. "Let us continue tomorrow, then. There is little else we can do at the moment, anyway." Everyone silently agreed and began dispersing to their rooms.

"Miss Hopps, Mr. Todwell," he called out. The fox and bunny turned to him. "I need a few minutes of your time before you leave."

As Judy and Nick went by the lynx, he quickly reached into his pocket and placed an orange pill bottle in Judy's paw. The doe nearly jumped at the object suddenly appearing in her paw. "Use at your discretion," the lynx told her, quietly, with a friendly smile. "Instructions are on the label."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **The next chapter will probably end Part One. I hope not to take as long to get that one out.**

 **We have reached a natural breakpoint, so I am going to take advantage of it.**

 **I hope you are enjoying the story so far.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	34. Takedown

**Author's Note:**

 **( Just an update to let you know Part Two, Rise of The Northern Lights has the first chapter released.)**

 **Sorry it took so long. Real life just has a way...**

 **As I indicated, this will end Part One since I have reached a natural breakpoint**

 **I hope to hear your comments as I start on Part Two.**

 **Enjoy this next installment!**

* * *

 _2:13 AM_

It was the largest operation in ZBI history, and it was being cobbled together in an hour, only possible because of the amount and quality of training the ZBI invested in their Tactical Response Units. The Commonwealth-wide scope of the operation was unprecedented. That some of their own personnel were also under suspicion and targets of the operation drove home the importance of the mission.

Marcus had been horrified at the list of mammals Matilda had sent over. There were even sitting members of the Commonwealth Council on the list, and his own checks had revealed several candidates within the Bureau itself. The op was far from perfect. It was likely that mammals not on the list were also involved but those would have to be dealt with after the level one suspects could be brought in and questioned.

The Commonwealth Charter guaranteed its citizens protection from unreasonable search and seizure. But wiser heads had realized dealing with spies made for a completely different definition of what was reasonable, hence the CI (Counter-Intelligence) Sweep. CI Sweeps did not require anywhere near the level of suspicion a normal criminal investigation did to bring suspects into custody. Suspects could be rounded up and held incommunicado for up to four days, without any documentation of the fact other than the roundup order that initiated the Sweep. Subjects found to be innocent would be compensated for their time, with protection from job loss, and a letter of commendation for Commonwealth service placed in their public records. It wasn't a perfect system, seldom used, but it had kept the Commonwealth safe for over a century.

Bureau resources were strained to the limit, with forty-seven suspects to be apprehended within one minute of each other throughout the Commonwealth, leaving the individual Tac teams to way-below-optimum level of three mammals per team, and several of the teams would have to travel in personal vehicles. Matilda's group had already rounded up a dozen ZIA suspects in Zootopia proper. Marcus cringed at being in her situation, but his little lamb had teeth and was certainly a pro. Damn, did he get lucky finding her! He was glad that no one in his immediate chain had been linked to Patricia Packland. That made his end of the operation much easier.

After clearing each office's Team Leaders, he had briefed them through video conference and laid out the details to the near horror of the Leaders. The operation would be noticed, they knew, so that was when they decided on the simultaneous arrests. Let the PR guys deal with the morning news.

Unfortunately, several suspects were currently outside of the Commonwealth, many servings in various Diplomatic Services assignments. Diplomatic Security Services had been briefed and would handle those. The others would have to be dealt with as opportunity arose.

The time was set now, and the clock was ticking down.

* * *

 _2:20 AM_

Reggie and Elena wandered quietly back to the doe's room, paw in paw. From the earlier discussion with the group, they had had a brief glimpse of what the lynx just revealed in the memorygram, but still... it was mind boggling.

Arriving, the couple undressed silently and slipped into bed, Elena nestling her back against Reggie's chest. After a few moments just comforting each other, Elena spoke.

"I didn't really picture you as the adventurous type," she said.

Reggie squirmed. "I'm not, really," he said. "I just didn't want to, well..."

She turned her head to look at him. "What?" she asked.

"I don't want to forget the last week," he said, bashfully. Elena's mouth formed a silent 'O'. He kissed her. "You're the best thing that's happened to me in... in... a long time, Elena. I wouldn't trade knowing you for anything."

Elena squealed and twisted around, kissing him deeply, a wild look in her eyes. "Yoah mahn, now," she drawled, pushing him onto his back.

* * *

 _2:30 AM_

Ears at the vent, Margaret sniffled quietly, the doe's eyes puffed up from a long night of crying. It was already bad enough that Jack was that slut Skye's lover. Sure, Margaret had just met the striped-faced buck, but that didn't mean he didn't like _her_ more than that slutty, perverted vixen who wanted everyone to believe that adorable buck could be the father of her skanky kits. No. Not only would she be denied the chance to claim the sweet buck as her own, but her darling Reggie had basically just proposed to that fat cow, Elena! Her depraved sister must have slipped Margaret's future husband drugs or something to get him to propose after only a few quick bangs. How could this be happening?

She knew. This was all her perverted sister Judy's fault. _Judy_ was the one who threw that cow on her darling Reggie. It was _Judy_ who had brought that poor, innocent Jack, her sweet buck, to be connived by that Arctic bitch to take ownership of the mutts in her belly. _Judy_ was the one who invited that perverted lynx with his pet sex-bunny to con everyone that kinky, perverted mammals could produce sweet, adorable kits together.

Sure. Everybody loved _Judy_. That perverted excuse of a bunny who was banging that wonderful tod, Nicholas, denying him the beautiful kits he could have if he simply married into his own species. Not that whore, Skye, though. Even Judy was better than that.

It was time someone did something about that filthy rabbit. Mom and Dad never would, and she couldn't blame them; Judy was their daughter, after all. But there came a time when Evil had to be stopped, regardless of family ties. All that was needed for Evil to triumph was for decent mammals of good will to do nothing. Well, she wasn't about to let Evil win. It was about time for mammals to know how Evil that Judy really was.

She picked up her phone and called a favorite buck of hers.

 _"Bunnyvision News, Night Desk,"_ came a tired voice. _"Bringing the Truth to you."_

"Hiya, Tom," she said, sweetly. "Did you get that picture I sent you last week? The one of me in the river?"

 _"Oh,"_ came the shy reply. _"Hi Marge. You're up kinda late. Yeah. I got it. You look real fine in that swimsuit. How's Elena?"_

Margaret didn't get personally offended at that question in her current state of mind. "Bitch, as usual," she spat. "Would you believe she's boffing some poor, adorable fox that works at the ZIA?"

 _"A spook?"_ came the interested question.

"Oh, no," she scoffed. "She isn't that adventurous. Just some cute IT nerd."

 _"Cute, eh?"_ he said. _"You're not getting jealous about her again, are you? That always makes me feel like you don't really care about me."_

Margaret cringed. "Of course, I care about you, Tom," she said. She turned on the phone camera, snapped a picture of her naked crotch, and messaged it to Tom's cell phone. "Check your phone, sweetie."

 _"Geez, Margaret!"_ he said _, "Now, that's an outfit that I like even better than your swimsuit!"_

"Are you busy, sweetie?" she cooed.

 _"I... don't know,"_ he said. _"Am I?"_

"I can't sleep," she whined. "Can I come see you? You always relax me. I can be there in fifteen minutes."

She heard pleased groaning on the other side of the line. _"That would be swell, Marge,"_ he said, huskily. _"I haven't been with anyone since our last time."_

"You silly buck," she purred. "I told you to call me if you got lonely."

Tom thought he hadn't been _that_ lonely, Marge being a little possessive, but a warm doe was a warm doe. And Margaret was quite pretty if you didn't compare her to Elena. _"Just been kinda busy,"_ he said. _"You know how it is. Everyone trying to find some new angle into your sister Judy's case."_

Margaret smiled. "Well," she said, teasingly, "I might just have something for you about that."

* * *

 _2:35 AM_

The smoke had finally cleared from the burnt remains of the rental car. Luckily for the investigators, the local fire department was only a quarter mile away, so the fire had been contained quickly, before all the evidence could be consumed. The bull examining the vehicle from the outside, dressed in a CSI coat, waved a greeting to the approaching Provincial Police chief.

"From that pose, I'd call it a suicide," the chief said, commenting on the burnt remains behind the steering wheel.

The CSI lead shrugged. "Depends," he said, non-committal.

"Depends?" said the chief.

"On whether he could backstab himself through the heart, pull the knife out, then get in the car and light it on fire from the outside."

"Murder, then," the chief mused.

"I'll let you know as soon as we collect and analyze all the evidence," the lead said, going back to work. "The car is registered to a room in the hotel. You're really not going to like all the paperwork."

The chief grunted. "Another tourist gets murdered," he said. "Manure happens. Not all that complicated."

The CSI lead chuckled. "He's got senior-level ZIA credentials."

The chief looked down at his feet, wondering what he had just stepped in.

* * *

 _3:00 AM_

"Feeling better?" Margaret whispered into Tom's ear, both rabbits panting in the afterglow, the doe straddling the buck sitting in the comfortable office chair. Pants around his ankles and paws under Margaret's dress, the buck was still grinding softly against the doe. She was pretty and exciting, just not... Elena. Elena was the doe that everyone really wanted, but no one could really handle. Margaret was... easy; a guaranteed lay for anyone who ever dated Elena. Just with a lot of baggage: She didn't couldn't deal well with being the second prettiest bunny in town.

He knew she wanted something because they were not using a condom, and she always strongly insisted on that. So, he took his time enjoying the doe. Might as well get his money's worth. She let him take his time, kissing and nuzzling him while his paws roamed everywhere until he started to slip out. Then she stuffed a pawful of tissues under her rump and dismounted.

"You wanted a new angle on Judy's case," she said, cleaning herself up with another pawful of tissue.

"Yeah," he said, admiring the busy doe with an appreciative smile; she noticed his attention and made a show of it. "Nobody really believes it was an accident," he told her. "Even a botched oven installation wouldn't just blow up. There'd be plenty of warning from the smell, especially for a fox, if there was a gas leak. And if it had failed while operating, there'd have been a flame-up, not just an explosion."

"Well," she said, finishing up. "Maybe it wasn't an accident."

* * *

 _3:30 AM_

Teams had been assembled based on the suspects; no use assigning an elephant to trap a mouse. A leopardess, a wolf, and a coyote, all in black tactical gear with reflective 'ZBI' on them, approached the townhouse owned by Patricia Packland with extreme caution. An alarm system was installed, which they knew how to deal with, but this perp was a trained Intelligence Officer with years of successful field ops experience. Who knew what surprises were in store for them?

The leopardess in the lead was the Bureau's Alarm Systems instructor, not a regular member of the Tac squad. She had been brought in specifically to deal with this subject. She immediately spotted something not on the alarm installation records, an infrared laser beam network surrounding the large townhouse. She motioned the others to halt and take cover while she figured out what to do. Her signal to stop echoed throughout the Commonwealth, putting all the other teams on hold.

The clock stopped.

* * *

 _3:32 AM_

"What do you mean, maybe it wasn't an accident?" Tom said, pulling Margaret onto his lap again. "You beautiful bunny, what do you know, you clever girl?" Flattery was the best way to get anything from Margaret.

She preened at his compliment. "There was talk in the burrow," she said. "Mom and Dad were watching the news when the report of the explosion came on live. The whole family came in to watch, then Mom got a phonecall and left with Dad. When they came back in, they were real angry, but not sad. Which I thought was strange, seeing Judy's their favorite and all, even though she's twisted like she is, going and marrying a fox of all things."

"Then what happened?" Tom asked, before the doe went on a full-blown tirade.

"They told us someone wanted to hurt the family and we should keep quiet about it," the doe said. "Which is fine by me, except I don't like lying through my teeth to everyone."

 _Yeah, sure_. "Lie about what, Margie?" he asked with concern in his voice.

"Why, about Judy and that darling Nick being dead, is what," she said, running her paw across his ears.

Tom nearly choked at that. "What do you mean, about Judy and Nick being dead?" he said, trying not to sound too eager.

She looked around dramatically. "They drove right on to the farm this morning with some slutty Arctic vixen who claims a rabbit got her pregnant," she whispered into his ear, her paws down on his bare crotch, stroking his malehood. "I even have pictures." Her free paw gave him her phone, which he frantically scrolled through, looking at various pictures taken that morning.

"Geez, Margie!" he exclaimed, catching a picture of Skye and Judy playing with The Kerfuffle. "That's Director Skye!" He tried to move, but Margaret's paws were having too good an effect on him. "They're at the farm?" he asked, putting the phone down and running his paws along her sides and breasts.

"Mmmm-Hmmmm," she mumbled, planting her lips on his. "Been there all day. Should be sleeping, I suppose. What's so special about Skye?"

His paws were under her skirt. "Right now, she's Public Enemy Number One," he told her. "Cops have orders to shoot her dead, on sight, without warning."

"I knew that slut was no good," she said, mounting him now that he was ready. "And that pervert, Judy, is hiding her. I did the right thing coming to you, tonight."

"Oh, yeah, baby," he said, already tasting the fame this story would bring while bobbing Margaret on his lap with his paws.

* * *

 _3:35 AM_

The leopardess only had three beam deflectors in her kit. Her IR goggles showed that would barely be enough for them to fit through the grid. Patricia Packland was one paranoid bitch, she thought. Of course, being a double agent did that to mammals, she knew. She set up the deflectors as best she could in an area that wouldn't be too obvious as either safe or dangerous, trying to avoid any secondary sensors or traps. She signaled the others to put on their IR goggles and follow.

The clock was back on.

* * *

 _3:40 AM_

Bouncing on his lap, Margaret moaned and crooned. Tom's paws had firm hold of the bunny's breasts, the buck leaning in to kiss the furry mounds when the phone rang. _Lousy timing_ , he thought, reaching for the handset.

"Bunnyvi-vison News, Night D-desk," he answered. "Bringing the Tru-uth to you."

 _"You're getting laid, aren't you?"_ came the eager voice of his roommate, Vince.

"What if I am?" Tom said. "You calling just to listen in?" Margaret moaned particularly loud then, just to tease Vince, who also happened to be cute.

 _"Nah, mammal,"_ was the excited reply. _"Just heard from Trax that the ZBI scrambled their entire Tac unit! They took off real quiet like, no lights or sirens, even taking some regular unmarked vehicles. Nothing on the scanners, then just split off every which way all of a sudden."_

"Exercise, maybe?" Tom wondered, starting to lose focus on anything but Margaret bouncing on his lap.

 _"Except that Glen just called from Mountainview and said the same thing happened there—at the same time,"_ Vince said. _"They never run divisional training ops at more than one division at a time. Against policy."_ And Vince would know, being a somewhat paranoid ZBI fanatic.

"I gotta wake people up," Tom said, not very urgently. "I owe you, Vince."

 _"Just send Marge over when you're done with her,"_ Vince growled.

"Get your own bunny, Vince," Tom said, almost at the cliff. "This one's my _special_ lady." He put down the phone and concentrated on the beautiful bunny moaning on his lap. Five minutes longer to get this new story rolling would be fine; he had the scoop of the decade bobbing on his lap.

* * *

 _3:45 AM_

The leopardess made it to the door first without any further problems. She efficiently picked the lock, making her way inside the townhouse to the alarm panel and disabling it. The wolf and the coyote silently rushed in, closing the door behind them, and the wolf now took the lead, working his way up the stairs to the master bedroom, with the leopardess and coyote fanning out behind, scanning their flanks with weapons held ready to fire.

The wolf raised a clenched paw, making the other two stop and scan more intensely. Then all three could hear the soft sound of light snoring coming from a cracked-open doorway ahead. The leopardess spotted the nearly invisible crinkle paper on the carpet too late to prevent the wolf from stepping on it as he opened the door.

The loud crunching sound of his foot on the paper sent the wolf diving headfirst into the room, rolling on the floor. The coyote surged forward, only to be tossed back over the crouching leopardess, blood splattering everywhere, as Patricia Packland opened up with a large-caliber weapon, lighting up the room with thundering gunfire. The wolf scrambled futilely for cover as Patricia targeted him next, but before the wolfess could get a good bead, the leopardess tagged her with three darts from her weapon. Patricia's gun discharged again, grazing the wolf along the ribs as the wolfess slumped down, unconscious.

"Agents down!" The leopardess shouted into her collar mic. "Agents down! Suspect neutralized! Premises NOT cleared! Send backup NOW!" She fired two more darts into the wolfess, point blank, to make sure she stayed out, then looked after her fallen comrades. The wolf looked embarrassedly at her.

"Yeah, I know," he said, wincing as she inspected his wound. "You taught me better than that." She growled her disapproval.

"Bitch gotta be dirty," she said, shaking her head. "No reason for armor-piercing rounds unless you expect SWAT or a tank to come in." She went into the hallway to check on the coyote. He was in bad shape. The bullet caught him in the chest, missing the heart but going through his lung. She ministered first aid as best she could, but he only groaned in pain, remaining unconscious.

The house lights started to come on as regular agents and medical personnel poured into the house, clearing the townhouse room-by-room. Soon a paramedic was tending to the coyote, giving the leopardess a not-too-hopeless frown. Another paramedic rushed past to look after the injured wolf, who was sitting up against a dresser, his weapon trained on the wolfess snoring face down on the bed.

"Got something!" came a cry from downstairs. "Nobody touches anything until Mara clears it!" followed the voice of the SAIC. That was her cue. The leopardess stood up and removed her TAC gear; time to get back to work.

* * *

 _3:57 AM_

"ZBI Watch Desk," said the bored voice answering the phone.

"This is Tom Lapinette with Bunnyvision News," Tom said. "Can you confirm deployment of the entire TAC unit earlier this evening?"

"...I can neither confirm nor deny any movement of ZBI personnel," came the expected answer.

"Can you confirm all TAC vehicles were used in addition to regular, unmarked vehicles?"

"...I can neither confirm nor deny any movement of ZBI... equipment," came the answer.

"Can you confirm that said vehicles split up to different individual locations with less than full squad strength each?"

"...I can neither confirm nor deny any movement of ZBI personnel," came the more flustered reply.

"Can you confirm that the Mountainview, Plainsville, and Zootopia divisions all performed similar operations at the same time as the Bunnyburrow division?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know what the... I can neither confirm nor deny any ongoing operations that may or may not be conducted the ZBI," came the agitated response. Tom pumped his fist. It was Commonwealth-wide!

"Can you confirm this operation is linked to the search for fugitive ZIA Director Skye?" Tom pushed, taking a leap of faith.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" came the angry response. "This operation has nothing to do with... I can neither confirm nor deny any operation that may or may not be conducted by the ZBI!" The line went dead.

* * *

 _4:17 AM_

Marcus gave a sigh of relief as the last team reported in, generating a round of cheers inside the TacOps room. All suspects were in custody. Several had resisted, some, like Patricia Packland, with deadly force. His teams had suffered twelve casualties, though the only critical injuries had been sustained by the coyote on Mara's team.

Now came the hard part: Sorting through the mess. By what had been reported so far, Patricia had been the ringleader of at least twenty-five agents throughout the Commonwealth, penetrating as high as the Secretary of the Intelligence Council, who was being groomed for the Chairman's position. Who 'had been' being groomed, he reminded himself: Classified documents were found in the ferret's residence; whether or not he was also a spy didn't matter. His career in politics was over.

The scandal was just beginning. There was still Arthur Foxworth to find. Which made what happened next even more interesting. His phone rang.

"Please tell me you got some sleep, Adrienne," he said guiltily to Chief Bogo.

"Not very much," the water buffalo admitted. "Just got a courtesy call from Labtierre Provincial Police. You looking for an Arthur Foxworth, by any chance?"

"You gotta be joking," Marcus said. "They have him?"

"You could say that," Bogo mused. "They have a murdered, burnt body, and a set of documents, including ZIA credentials, for an Arthur Foxworth."

"What do you mean by 'courtesy call?' " Marcus asked.

"They found him at a tourist hotel parking lot," Bogo told him. "Very publicly burning in a rental car. Local news already has it and LBC will open their morning shows with the story. After you, I get to call his wife—make that, ex-wife: He apparently got divorced yesterday." The water buffalo chuckled. "Guess you won't be getting much sleep either, Marcus."

"I feel a storm coming," the ram said, "and it isn't rain that's gonna be falling."

* * *

 _4:30 AM_

Octavio nibbled at Chia's ear, crawling in between her and Palila, spooning behind the wolfess. She murmured sleepily, a gentle smile on her muzzle as she moved her tail out of the way and pushed her rump towards him. Octavio groaned running his paws over her hindquarters.

"Sister Chia misses you, my lord," Abigail said, affectionately, leaning over Windbright.

Octavio sighed. "It is mutual, Abigail," he said, his body obvious with desire. "But we have a busy morning schedule." He kissed Chia on the head, nuzzling her tenderly, then stood up. The wolfess yawned, cracking her eyes open.

"That really does look painful, my lord," Windbright quipped, staring mischievously at his aroused state.

"I have a cure for that," Palila said, stretching.

"We won't leave for days if you start anything, Mother," Alexandra said, getting down from the bed. "Shall I order breakfast?"

"I could eat a cow," Palila growled.

"Wrong country," Windbright said, sullenly.

"Just a few more days, my dears, and we can feast on real meat," Octavio said.

Abigail stretched sensuously. "My lord had rabbit just last night," she said.

"Mamá!" said Alexandra, scandalized, from the other room, calling the kitchens.

Chia sat up, sleepily. It took a few seconds to clear the cobwebs from her head, but even after she was fully awake that feeling remained while she looked at the others. Octavio caught her glance and gave her a feral, possessive smile. He felt it, too.

This was their Pack.

* * *

 _6:02 AM_

Tom rushed towards the producer's office, waving his arms to get his attention. "Got it!" he yelled, panting. "Check the clean copy."

"Better be good, Tom," the producer grumbled, typing at his keyboard. "Woke up a lotta mammals for this. We had the lineup all set up. Hmmf. Still have your spell checker off, don't you?"

Tom blushed, but the producer was too busy to notice. "You got this recorded, right?" the producer asked, looking up. Tom nodded. "And your source will stand by the second one?" Tom nodded again. "I like the idea of stepped release. We're doing it. Get it down to production. You did good, Tom. Next time don't use my desk to get laid."

Tom froze, then nodded frantically before running down to production.

* * *

 _8:00 AM_

On the International Terminal's Diplomatic Lounge monitor, ZNN's morning news program was starting. _"This is Saturday Zootopia! with Peter Moosebridge,"_ came the announcer's dramatic voice and inspirational theme music.

The usually somber-faced moose actually looked alive today, Octavio thought, his arm around Chia who was napping against him on the comfortable couch. Palila, Abigail, Windbright and Alexandra were gawking through the terminal's many duty-free shops, seeing items simply not available in Aurora—or, in Windbright's case, items she could never before afford to buy. He had given Alexandra the credit card. His new daughter had the most sensible head of all of them, himself and Chia included. Even though, overnight, they had become one of the wealthiest families in the Empire, Octavio had always been frugal, which the young bunny approved of heartily. He smiled and continued to watch the news program.

The anchormammal seemed genuinely pleased to be there this morning, eager to start, impatiently shuffling papers while waiting for the announcer to finish introducing him.

 _"Good morning, Zootopia,"_ Peter began. _"Our top overnight story this morning breaks from the award-winning Bunnyvision News service: In a massive, Commonwealth-wide operation conducted by the ZBI's Tactical Response Division, an estimated fifty subjects have been rounded up in what is called a Counter-Intelligence or 'CI' Sweep."_

That caught Octavio's attention at once, and not in the most pleasant of ways, as he expected his own Embassy staff to keep him appraised of such things. His personal assistant, an otter, sitting in the chair next to the couch cringed. Well, Octavio mused, ex-Embassy staff; he was not planning on returning to Zootopia. He focused on the moose in the monitor, a sigh of relief escaping the otter.

 _"The Counter-Intelligence Sweep is a rarely-used provision of the Commonwealth Charter,"_ Moosebridge explained, _"aimed at bringing down foreign espionage rings within the benign Commonwealth social environment. There have only been two previous Sweeps in Commonwealth history, first during the Commonwealth Affirmation War, and the last time during the Bunnyburrow Border Incursions, twenty years ago."_

There was a dramatic pause, which let Octavio know the moose had been waiting for this moment.

 _"Top ZNN sources have now also confirmed this was a massive, joint operation between the ZBI, the ZPD, and the legendary ZIA Independent Field Operations Division,"_ he said, strongly emphasizing ZNN. _"The operation was undertaken as a result of the highly-publicized deaths this past week of Commonwealth sweethearts and ground-breaking ZPD couple Judith and Nicholas WildeHopps."_

 _"While initially dubbed a freak accident,"_ he continued, _"ZPD this morning confirmed that the deaths of the two world-famous Police Officers was, indeed, the result of foul play. In close cooperation with the ZIA, ZPD pronounced the deaths accidental after evidence revealed the explosion to have been the result of known methods used by several foreign intelligence agencies, the identities of which have not been released at this time."_

 _"ZNN sources confirm that during the ZIA's initial investigation into this matter, the Co-Director of Independent Field Operations, only know as Skye, inadvertently stumbled across the active espionage ring operating within the Agency while conducting routine inquiries in the Plainsville Operations Division of the ZIA, resulting in the largest mammal-hunt in Commonwealth history as highly-placed foreign operatives attempted to eliminate Director Skye by marking her as a rogue agent."_

 _"The hunt for Director Skye has now been cancelled, with its unprecedented order to shoot dead on sight without warning already casting suspicion on Federal Court Judge G. R. Cowling for issuing such a directive. Judge Cowling has not responded to our attempts to reach him for comment."_

 _"Mayor Lionheart has issued a statement praising the ZIA's Independent Field Operations Division for its initiative and dedication to bring this conspiracy to a swift end, and for its integrity to have kept the civilian authorities informed of events beginning the moment foreign involvement was suspected. The Mayor's office released a highly-redacted log of the operation, verifying civilian control of the investigation from the start, and also issued high praise for all the civilian authorities involved for maintaining the necessary level of confidentiality to keep knowledge of the operation from leaking and alerting the hostile operatives."_

 _"The Mayor's office has vowed, to quote, 'pursue and cleanse the Commonwealth of every last member of this conspiracy, wherever such investigation may lead._ '"

 _"The Counter-Intelligence Sweep was triggered overnight by evidence surfacing in the murder of Baratean Noble Tonya Ryzhaya positively identifying, what appears to ZNN sources close to the investigation, the ringleader of the foreign network. Initial suspicions had centered on ZIA Operations Director Arthur Foxworth, who mysteriously vanished sometime yesterday after suddenly resigning from his seven-year post as Director earlier that morning, raising concerns the socialite fox, married until recently to Wolfram Industries heiress Candace Wolfram, could have been the ringleader."_

 _"These suspicions have been lifted following the shocking report broadcasted just hours ago on LBC's 'Labtierre Today' confirming the brutal murder of Director Foxworth at a tourist hotel close to the Bunnyburrow border. Investigators now believe Mr. Foxworth may have simply been trying to escape the spy network after conducting an unscheduled internal investigation when his one-time protege, Director Skye, was marked as Public Enemy Number One. ZPD will..."_ Moosebridge's eyes went wide. _"What?"_ he said, flustered. _"Seriously?"_

Octavio chuckled at the news of Arthur's 'death.' The fox really did know his business; perhaps he could be persuaded to run the Intelligence Ministry. Octavio made a mental note to discuss the possibility with Chia. His assistant was visibly disturbed at the white wolf's merriment, which had never been a good sign before.

The scene on the monitor had switched, to a view outside two large, carrot-shaped gates with a stylized 'H' on them.

A jaguar wearing a raincoat stood before the gates, holding a microphone. _"This is ZNN's Katman Dooh, reporting live from outside the Hopps Farm in Bunnyburrow,"_ he said. _"In what is now being called the Story of the Decade, Bunnyvision News unleashed this morning a second bombshell that may have appeared earlier as an unrelated story: Confidential sources have confirmed Commonwealth heroes Nick and Judy WildeHopps are alive and well, hiding on the grounds of the Hopps Family Farm just on the other side of the gates behind me."_ The scene changed to a picture showing the ZPD bunny officer playing with some young bunny kits, next to the most beautiful mammal Octavio had ever seen—and still remembered: Skye.

 _"In a picture confirmed taken yesterday morning, Officer Judy WildeHopps can be seen playing with her younger siblings, alongside none other than now-cleared ZIA Co-Director of Independent Field Operations Skye."_ Octavio burst out laughing, waking Chia and creeping out the otter. He bowed respectfully at the screen, admiring the play made by the Zootopians.

Chia glanced at the monitor. "Bowing to Zootopian females, are we?" she said, a slight edge in her voice. He gave her a kiss.

"That rabbit is supposedly dead," he told her. "I was guaranteed she was, at any rate. The vixen is one of my Zootopian counterparts."

"Did you sleep with her?" she asked, sweetly.

Octavio chuckled. "That goes against certain 'unwritten rules,' my love," he said, nuzzling her head.

"Excellent," Chia said, happily. "I would hate so much to kill her. She is absolutely stunning."

* * *

 _8:02 AM_

Trina picked up her phone, catching her breath. "Good morning, Zeke," she said, panting lightly.

 _"Guess I know why he wasn't answering his phone,"_ Zeke chuckled. _"At least he's up."_

"Most definitely," Trina said, reaching over to caress Kataiahs. "What can I do for you, Zeke?"

 _"Tell the boss we've got company outside,"_ he said.

"Oh?" she said, surprised. "Who?"

 _"I'd say half of Bunnyburrow,"_ Zeke mused.

* * *

 _8:25 AM_

Octavio and his pack were preparing to go board the airship when an officious looking moose accompanied by two snow leopards from the Embassy approached them.

"You are under arrest," the moose announced, arrogantly.

The girls looked around. "Who?" Windbright asked Kasim, one of the two snow leopards. The snow leopard looked at the moose with a sigh, shaking his head in disgust. Octavio just smiled, making his otter assistant cringe.

The moose huffed, glaring at Windbright. "Him!" he said, nodding towards Octavio. The otter assistant grimaced, backing away. Chia smiled sweetly; Palila licked her lips hungrily; Windbright guffawed. Abigail stroked the moose's muzzle compassionately, shaking her head with pity.

"You do realize, do you not, that you are—or should have been—addressing a High Lord of the Empire?" Alexandra said to the moose, baffled.

The moose sneered, pulling out an MRA signet from his jacket. "He is under arrest for Reproductive Fraud," he scoffed. Abigail tilted her head, puzzled, stroking her very pregnant belly; Palila smiled softly, rubbing her gently rounded midsection; Windbright blushed furiously, crossing her paws over her belly. Chia wrapped her paws around Octavio possessively. Octavio grinned smugly.

"And these charges are based on what, if I may ask..." Alexandra squinted to read the Ministry of Reproductive Affairs signet. "...Inspector Mooseybits?"

"Moo-Seh-Beets," he corrected the doe indignantly. "It is obvious he has not impregnated these females," he snarled in disgust.

"Oh, believe me, Inspector," Abigail sighed. "I had to look for my brains when he was done impregnating me."

"Mamá!" Alexandra said while her other mothers giggled. The two snow leopards displayed remarkable control with their neutral expressions, though their eyes betrayed just how amused they were.

"I do not believe for one moment this wolf sired their kits!" the moose spat out. The snow leopards winced. The otter assistant dove behind the sofa. The girls gasped in unison.

Octavio leaned forward, staring straight ahead, his salivating jaws dripping by the moose's muzzle. "Are you accusing my wives of cuckolding me?" he whispered, colder than Aurora's winters. The snow leopards backed away respectfully, letting the moose know without words he had crossed the line into personal insult against a High Lord.

The moose gulped, sweat beading on his nose. Inside the Diplomatic Lounge, there were no Zootopian Aerodrome Security personnel to protect him, he remembered too late, the area considered International Territory. The predators smelled his fear; the rabbits recognized the body language.

Falling to his knees, bowing down submissively, the moose whined in distress. "My lord," he whimpered, "I would never accuse these fine ladies of any improprieties."

Chia knelt by the moose, taking his hoof in her paw. "My dear Inspector," she said sweetly, "have they sent you alone into the wolves' den? Did they exploit your commendable zeal to humiliate my husband?"

"I-I don't understand," he said, breathing hard, trying not to whine.

"I am the Alpha female of House Belyiklyk," she said, softly. "It is _I_ who chose my sister wives, as Tradition dictates. I chose only honorable females, according to our Traditions, and my lord claimed them all honorably, blindfolded, in the Traditional manner."

"B-but my orders," he stammered, unsure now. "They are clear... Lord Belyiklyk has violated Tradition by selecting females he cannot breed."

Chia laughed delightedly. "My sisters have all been honorably bred," she said. "As their breeding records will show. Did you check nothing before so boldly trying to insult our pack?"

"But..."

"My dear Inspector," she said, reasonably. "Ketryn, herself, made the records. Will you convict her of fraud, as well? Or the Ambassador, who approved and submitted those records?" She patted his hoof. "You are being used to humiliate our House, nothing more."

"A wolf cannot breed a rabbit!" he said with fierce conviction. "It is not possible!"

Chia smiled, giving him a peck on the cheek. "You are looking with jaded eyes, Inspector," she said, sweetly. "You look at what _you_ believe is possible and try to interpret Tradition accordingly when, all along, it has always been _Tradition_ that dictates what _is_ possible. And our Written Traditions say _any_ male may breed _any_ female—as long as it is done honorably—do they not?"

That stumbled the moose. "Well... I..."

Chia whispered into his ear. " _Wherefore of a Contract honorably consummated between a male and a female,_ " she quoted, " _any offspring forthcoming from the female while honorably bound under said Contract shall **irrevocably be the offspring of the Contracted male**._"

She looked graciously at the confused moose. "It is in this way that our ancient Written Traditions mercifully protect our Empire's newborn kits from being discarded as Fatherless slaves by the dishonorable." She booped his nose. "So it is taught in the Law."

The moose swallowed. "But…the warrant…"

"Will be taken care of," Octavio said, gruffly, holding out an open paw. The moose carefully reached into his jacket for the official warrant and gave it to Octavio, eyes lowered. "I shall present myself to the House of Lords upon my arrival and deal with this matter," Octavio said. The moose bowed his head.

"As my lord wishes," he said, humbly. "I beg my lord's forgiveness for any distress my behavior has caused."

"There are many lords not as kind as I," Octavio said. "Beware your manners in the future. Confidence without substance will only get you killed." The otter, peeking from behind the couch rolled his eyes.

 _"Final Boarding Call for **Borealis Air** BA1362 direct to **Aurora** ,"_ came from the loudspeakers. _"All passengers should be in the Terminal and heading towards Gate **C5**. Repeating… Final Boarding Call for **Borealis Air** BA1362 direct to **Aurora**. All passengers should be in the Terminal and heading towards Gate **C5**."_

"That is us, Father," Alexandra confidently told the group. "We must be going." She curtsied politely to the moose. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Inspector. Have a nice day." With the help of the otter, she efficiently ushered her parents towards the gate, leaving behind a very confused moose. The two snow leopards helped him to his feet, shaking their heads in amazement that the inspector was still alive. Then again, there was a snow leopardess in the Royal Family. Times were changing.

 _"We end our program today with a very disturbing, yet hopeful announcement from Mammalian Health Organization Headquarters in Pravey, Grandterre,"_ said Peter Moosebridge from the monitor in the now-empty lounge. _"After collating the latest annual data from its branches around Mammaldom, the Director of Infectious Diseases has issued an Mammaldom-wide alert declaring the level of FES—the fatal infant disease known as Feral Embryonic Syndrome—cases to have reached epidemic proportions. The announcement was made in a joint statement with the Mammaldom-renowned Grandterre School of Medicine, Mammaldom's oldest medical university, where the Head of Kit Medicine stunned the medical community with the revelation that the first known live birth of a FES kit took place one month ago in the Grandterre School of Medicine Hospital."_ The screen showed a video of an adorable rabbit kit sitting and hopping about an acrylic-encased crib. The kit's nose twitched continuously, ears attentively scanning in all directions.

The eyes were feral.

* * *

 **End of Part One**

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Well, there you have it. Part one is complete. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for your patience. I have already started Part Two, having many scenes that now need to be stitched together. I am thinking about writing a Synopsis, story being as long as it is-which sounds great until you think how much I need to summarize...that's what I get for getting creative.**

 **Please let me know your opinions.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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